


Crawl Out Through The Fallout

by mash1518



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Action, Angst, Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Game Dialogue, Love, More tags to be added, Multiple Pov, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2018-10-23 18:45:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 89,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10725051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mash1518/pseuds/mash1518
Summary: *COMPLETED*The world is different. Bigger. Difficult. Terrifying.But that doesn't stop Grace from trying to find her son, herself, no matter what it takes.The world is different. Vast. Challenging. Unpredictable.It has never been easy for Deacon, the world almost always seeming out to get him.Somehow, under impossible circumstances, the two intertwine.***Grace has a hard time accepting the new world. She didn't choose to be in this position. Somehow she gets through each day, and then she meets Deacon, who introduces her to an entirely different perspective of this new world. Whether she believes it or not.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing any sort of fan fiction. I used to write a lot of fiction when I was still in school, and after a verrrry long hiatus, this is me finally getting back into writing.
> 
> I missed it so much.
> 
> I am also so incredibly obsessed with this game. I've played through it multiple times and have loved every minute of it. I have recently just started a new play-through, which I will be roughly basing this story on. I've also become a little obsessed with Deacon and incredibly upset at the lack of him being a romance-able companion. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> **Most of the dialogue is from the game, although some is mine. Everything else is Bethesda**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both characters are introduced. Deacon does some recon and Grace is unfrozen in the Vault.

_It was a surprisingly nice day._

That was the thought he had as he sat in that chair, sitting atop a hill, wielding his favourite pair of binoculars. Of course he had a favourite. He took these ones almost everywhere with him, whenever he was on one of these reconnaissance missions. Normally, when he was here, it was cloudy. More than once a rad storm blew in out of nowhere and he had to run down that hill to take shelter in one of the houses. Listening to that damned robot go on about the shrubs that “needed to be trimmed quite dearly”, or the plants that “just weren’t fairing well these days.”

The robot had no idea he was there, obviously. He was always discreet at running to safety so he wouldn’t get cooked from the inside out.

He took a sip from his thermos and the water instantly cooled his dry throat. Hesitantly, he poured some over his head, letting it cool off his skin.

_It's quite a hot one out today too._

He let out a sigh, not sure of frustration or simply boredom. This was probably one of the few missions he’d been sent on that had the least bit of action possible. He wasn’t even sure why exactly he had to wait here. No one had any idea how long before someone emerged from that vault. No one had really been able to get down there either – he’d tried, of course. But his boss had heard from a friend of a friend of a guy who sold chems, that there were people down there. That someone had gotten in there once before, someone from the Institute.

Well, as soon as that word was mentioned, he had been sent there almost immediately to scout it out. And that had been well over a month ago.

He didn’t sit there 24/7 of course. Had camped out for a few days at first, just in case something were to happen. But then he only came back about once every week. There wasn’t much else to do back at HQ, so he found himself frequenting this patio chair he’d drug up from someone's backyard. He’d fashioned himself quite the little home-away-from-home, complete with a table, a stump to rest his legs upon, and a piece of tarp he’d strewn above to keep out most of the sun. He needed to see after all; hating to have any sort of glare obstructing his view.

He set down his binoculars, giving his eyes a rub, before replacing them with his sunglasses. Even alone he felt he had to wear them

_Wouldn’t want some radstag sharing any of my secrets._

He dug around into his pockets before pulling out some chalk.  With effortless precision he drew a plus sign onto some boards he’d nailed up, hiding his position somewhat, and drew lines pointing out, circling the centre. Almost like a sun.

He still found it interesting how today, of all the days since he’d been here, it was the nicest.

_Almost like there was something stirring in the universe._

He had to laugh out loud at that one.

Anything that was stirring in his universe was never a good sign.

***

               

“Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All Vault residents must vacate immediately.”

Her eyes opened groggily, while she desperately tried to get a breath. She could barely make out what sounds she heard, but she knew it was some type of voice. She coughed uncontrollably, her throat feeling constricted as she raised her hand to it. A constant alarm sounded and her head spun as the walls around her started to close in.

She needed to get out of there. Now.

Gasping, she banged on the pods doors, and they opened with a violent hiss. She fell to the floor, coughing some more, as she tried to get any sort of breath. She stared at the ground.

_What was happening?_

Somehow she found the strength to look around her, when her eyes fell on the pod in front of hers.

_Oh no..._

She pushed herself off of the ground, placing her hands on the glass, and stared in horror. 

_Had that actually happened? It must have been some sick nightmare._

“Come on! There has to be some release...” she choked out, her throat squeezing tight, and she started hitting buttons. “Come on, come on, come on.” She pulled on a lever, and the pod hissed again, and she flinched, almost darting backwards as it opened before her.

Her nightmare laid frozen in front of her.

“Oh God...”

Her arms wrapped around herself as she shivered, not just from the freezing room. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.

_Why._

Hands shaking, she reached out slowly to place her hand on his shoulder. She flinched at the stiffness, letting out a choked gasp.

_I need to get out of here._

She slowly backed away from her husband, shock ripping through her body, surprised she could even move her legs. Everything was cold.

“I’ll find who did this,” she whispered, a tear finally escaping, and it dripped off her chin, landing on the frozen floor, solidifying almost immediately. “and I’ll get Shaun back. I promise.”

With summoned strength, she tore herself away from him, leaving the frozen pods. She didn’t want to look at the others around her. She had a feeling of what their fate had been. In a daze she walked around corridors, having no idea where she was going. Just that she needed to get out. She felt like she was in a nightmare again, as a giant – was that a, cockroach? – hissed at her and she screamed, kicking it violently until it was dead.

_What the hell was that?_

 She found a baton of sorts, it reminded her of the ones police had used, and she held it to her chest, her heart threatening to burst out of her. She needed to continue forward.

She had to fight a few more of these god-awful creatures, before she found herself in a room. Lying on a table was a pistol. She’d had little experience with one, but enough that she discarded the baton, loaded the nearby ammo, and slid the chamber closed with an intimidating click. For a brief moment she felt powerful, holding that gun. Anytime she’d used one in the past, was with _him_ in a shooting range. She’d never had to kill something with it.

If the cockroaches were any indication, she had a feeling she was going to become very familiar with this pistol.

She was surprised at her calmness, considering how panicked she’d been mere moments ago.

_Must be the adrenaline. Fight or flight._

She gained access to the terminal on the desk, trying to avoid touching the long decayed skeleton that was spread in a chair, and the doors opened successfully. She carefully inched her way towards it, cautious of the fact there were giant fucking bugs everywhere, apparently. Sure enough, as she leaned around the corner, at least five of the things starting coming after her. She shot haphazardly, missing the closest one, and she had to stomp it before it could get any closer. She was successful in shooting the others, and she stood there briefly, gaining her senses back. The pistol warm in her hands, she continued forward, gagging at the stench of the dead insects.

She came to another room, and this one looked familiar as she shot yet another cockroach. Followed by a second. She prayed to God there were no more. Her heart couldn’t take it. She looked around the room, recognising it as the first room they walked into, remembering the Vault-Tec staff handing them the suits, and helping her and her neighbours get started.

_I can’t believe we trusted them._

She stepped up onto a platform, kicking the dead cockroach out of the way, and discovered an abandoned Pipboy. Well, not exactly abandoned, as it was wrapped around the skeletal wrist of one of the Vault-Tec staff. Curiosity got the best of her as she carefully removed it from the wrist, somewhat successful at avoiding its touch. The body had shifted, the bone just barely grazing her own wrist, and she couldn’t help but shudder. She clasped the device on her own wrist, and it powered up almost instantly. She was surprised it still worked as she wiped the dust away from the screen. After a few moments fooling around with the controls, the vault door came to life with a grunt.

“Vault door cycling sequence initiated.” An electronic voice sounded. “Please stand back.”

She backed away in almost awe, watching as the giant gears hissed and squealed as the door slowly started to open. Lights started flashing and an alarm was sounding and an agonizingly painful time later, daylight streamed through the vault and she had to cover her eyes briefly, but she lowered her arms, feeling the warm defrost her body.

She walked forward along the scaffolding, down the stairs, and waited for the platform to lower. Eventually she was able to step inside, and after a moment, it started to raise. She looked above her, hardly believing this was it. She was finally getting out.

“Enjoy your return to the surface. And thank you for choosing, Vault-Tec.”


	2. The Real World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon finds out about a certain vault dweller, Grace befriends the people she rescued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter here! I really appreciate the few kudos I've received - thank you so much! Hope you enjoy the latest instalment. I have so many ideas already planned for this story, but I have to be patient. Thanks, again!
> 
> ~mash~

“Deacon, what’s the latest?” Desdemona asked him as he rounded the corner of the cramped catacombs. He’d just returned from the vault he’d been camped at. Three days of travel this time, as opposed to his usual two days. He’d decided he wanted to take his time coming back to HQ, taking a different route. Not as life-threatening.

“Same old, same old, Dez,” he replied, taking a seat and reaching for a nearby can of water. “Although this time there were three bloodbugs that attacked me as opposed to just one.”

Dez hardly raised an eyebrow. “Anything else?”

“No, boss.”

She nodded. “Very well. I expect you to keep this up until we know what’s for certain regarding this... situation.”

“You got it, boss.”

Who was he kidding? At this point it seemed more like he was on a wild goose chase. No one even knew for certain whether or not there were actually people alive down there. The only lead they had was that one story the chem dealer mentioned. But if it was true, that it had something to do with the Institute, Dez wouldn’t rest until something was resolved.

Which was funny, considering she wasn’t the one making the journey up north and back every week.

_At least it gives me an excuse to get out of here every once in a while._

Desdemona went back to flipping through some papers, he could only assume to be a report. Glory had just gotten back recently as well from a mission that had her just outside Diamond City, so he figured it was hers. She was always a little more disciplined when it came to writing her reports as opposed to himself. It would get handed in sure, but not after some time and a much needed nap.

He stood, wiping off his hands, and headed towards his mattress tucked away in one of the few corners not filled with junk. Tinker Tom had filled this place with half finished projects or failed ideas. All of which seemed ridiculous from the get go.

But he wouldn’t tell him that.

“Hey, Deacon. My Man.” Tom said as Deacon passed his bench. “Just the man I wanted to see.”

Deacon eyed the rather large needle in his hands. “What you have going today, Tom?”

“I need someone to test this out on. You interested?”

“As much as I’d love to, I really need to catch a few winks. Rain check?”

“No worries, brother.”

Deacon gave Tom a smile, and continued through the array of items scattered about, before finally getting to his mattress. He sat down on it, dust floating everywhere. Everything down here was covered in dust. He’d just removed one shoe when Glory came running towards him.

“Deacon, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” she said, nearly scaring the shit out of him.

“Jesus, Glory, I just got back. What’s up?”

“You’ll hardly believe it, but as I was returning to HQ, I met Carla on the road, and you’ll never guess what she told me.”

Deacon looked up at her through his sunglasses. “She finally found the secret to achieving an amazing blow-out?”

His comment barely phased Glory as she replied. “She said she heard someone had helped Preston Garvey and a few others in the Museum of Freedom.”

Deacon wrinkled his nose. “Preston Garvey, “the last of the Minuteman” Preston Garvey?”

Glory nodded. “Yeah, they were hiding from a bunch of Raiders, and, oh! There was a Deathclaw too! Came out of the ground apparently.”

“So what’s this have to do with you telling me right before I was about to have the most wonderful sleep?”

“Cause Deacon,” Glory beamed. “The person was in a vault suit.”

_Holy shit._

“Yeah, holy shit.” replied Glory. Deacon didn’t realise he’d actually said that out loud. “Carla actually met her. She was looking for directions to Diamond City.”

Deacon’s ears perked. “She?”

“Yeah.  A woman. The only one to come out of the vault, apparently.”

A woman, on her own, and she fought a god damn Deathclaw?

_Now that was something I wish I had seen._

***

               

 “Would you like some more radstag, Grace?”

Grace looked up from the empty plate that rested in her lap. “Oh no, I’m stuffed. Thank you, though.”

Preston Garvey gave a smile, and then continued to offer seconds to the people around her.

So much had happened in the past few days, she still found herself in shock of it all. First, stumbling down that hill to find her old Mr. Handy unit, Codsworth, telling her that more than 200 years had passed since she had first been frozen in the vault. That alone almost sent her over the edge. 200 years of being frozen in a vault. And if that weren’t enough, the world had changed. Drastically.  No more were there green grass, and healthy trees. The world had been subjected to an apocalyptic state, with radiation from the bomb that fell, affecting nearly everything. The water was radiated, the food that grew wild. The radroaches, which she learned were called, and other wildlife, including the deer – rather radstag, they had killed for dinner.

Somehow she had found herself mustering up some courage, or maybe just curiosity, which had lead to her finding a lone German Shepherd, to stumbling upon a gun fight breaking out in the dilapidated streets, to helping a Mr. Preston Garvey. She thought killing those radroaches in the vault were bad enough, but for the time in her life, she had to kill a person.

Grace found herself shivering at the memory. She didn’t want to have to kill those people, but she knew that she had to. It was a different world now.

So different that in the same day of killing people for the first time, she ended up in a battle with one of the most feared creatures in what was known as the Commonweath.

A Deathclaw.

If she had heard that name alone, she would have been terrified beyond belief, which is why she found it so difficult to believe she had fought one. And won at that?

_Someone is looking out for me out here._

And now here she was, sharing a meal with five other people. People who were surviving.

“I’m glad you decided to come with us,” said Preston after settling back down in his own seat. “I should have listened to Mama Murphy all along. Pretty nice place she’s found for us. I think we could settle down here, make it a place to call home. What do you think?”

Grace shifted in her seat. “Yeah, I used to like living here. Before the war...”

Preston almost choked on his meal, and the others looked up questioningly. “What do you mean? _Before the war._ Are you saying...”

“I lived here,” she couldn’t believe she was actually saying this out loud for the first time. “over 200 years ago. I was...frozen, or something for most of it. Just woke up a little while ago.”

“Damn. Like one of those old prewar ghouls...” Preston looked almost a little impressed. “You said you were frozen... anybody else make it out with you?”

She felt her heart tear just a little more. “Just my son. Somebody took him away while I was still trapped. I’ve been looking for him.” Something else she hadn’t had to say aloud and make it more real.

Preston looked away briefly before meeting her eyes again. “Damn. I’m sorry. I hope you find him. Let me know if there’s any way I can help.”

Grace couldn’t believe it.

Here she had just been out of the vault for mere days, and she had found people who were willing to help her find her son.

She gave Preston a smile as Dogmeat came up beside her, placing his head in her lap. She ran her fingers through his fur.

She couldn’t help but look over at Mama Murphy, an older woman, as she sat off to the side her back to the rest of the group, in her own world. Grace thought back to just after she rescued them – her a rescuer? Seemed unbelievable – and to the conversation the two of them had shared.

_“You’re a woman out of time. Out of hope. But all’s not lost. I can feel... your son’s energy. He’s alive.”_

No words couldn’t have surprised her as much as those.

_“Where is my son? Where is Shaun?”_

_“Oh I wish I knew, kid. I really do. But it’s not like I can see your son. I can just... feel his life force, his energy. He’s out there. And even I don’t need the Sight to tell you where you should start lookin’. That great, green jewel of the Commonwealth. Diamond City. The biggest settlement around.”_

Grace decided that the first thing in the morning, she would try and make her way to this, Diamond City. Even if she died trying.


	3. The Great, Green Jewel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon sees Grace for the first time, and Grace goes to Diamond City.

This was probably one of his more uncomfortable disguises.

Ironic, considering all the padding he was strapped up in. But that was just it. He would rather be running around in a t-shirt and jeans than fumbling around in umpires gear, weighing him down. But that was the cost of getting information whilst in Diamond City.

_She should be here by now._ He thought to himself.

This was true. He knew it took roughly a day to travel from Sanctuary to Diamond City, whether you just came out of a vault for the first time or not. It seemed like a difficult journey, but it was usually pretty harmless. The only thing you had to worry about were Raiders or the occasional bloodbug or bloatfly. Maybe a ghoul if you’re unfortunate enough to stumble into one. But he felt good about this vault dweller. He had no idea about anything about her, other than the fact she helped take down a deathclaw. That gave him confidence, at least.

“I think someone might be at the gate.” Said Danny Sullivan, one of the Diamond City guards who manned the controls of the gate. He took his job pretty seriously, most of the time.

“Oh yeah?” Deacon replied, his heart giving just the briefest of flutters. Of course he was excited to finally seeing this mysterious woman.

“Oh wait. It’s just Piper.”

Deacon couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

_Anytime now._

“I can’t open the gate, Piper.” Danny said, pressing a button as he leaned into a microphone.

“What do you mean you can’t open the gate?” a shrill voice came through the speakers. “Stop playing around, Danny! I’m standing out in the open here, for crying out loud!”

Danny glanced over at Deacon, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

“I got orders not to let you in, Ms. Piper. I’m sorry, I’m just doing my job.”

“Ohh, ‘Just doing your job?’ Protecting Diamond City means keeping me out, is that it? ‘Oh look it’s the scary reporter!’ Boo!”

Deacon couldn’t help but smirk as he watched Danny struggle. Piper had always been one to do her own thing. She was one of a kind, that one.

“I’m sorry,” Danny continued. “but Mayor McDonough’s really steamed Piper. Sayin’ that article you wrote was all lies. The whole city’s in a tizzy.”

There was a brief pause before Piper let out a frustrated growl, one that sent feedback through the speakers. Both Danny and Deacon flinched.

“You open this gate right now, Danny Sullivan! I live here. You can’t just lock me out!” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Open up...”

It was silent for a moment, and Danny looked back up at Deacon. “You think she’s still there?” he mouthed, and Deacon just looked at him. It was Piper. Of course she was still there.

_It’s like dealing with a child._

He re-crossed his arms before walking over and leaning against the wall. Who knew how long this performance was going to last?

“...what was that?” Piper’s voice came back through the speaker. “You said you’re a trader up from Quincy? You have enough supplies to keep the general store stocked for a whole month? Huh...”

Mayor McDonough chose that moment to walk down the stairs and over to Deacon and Danny.

“What is going on here?” he asked, as Piper continued.

“You hear that Danny? You gonna open the gate and let us in? Or are you going to be the one to talking to crazy Myrna about losing out on all this supply?”

Danny looked at the Mayor helplessly, “Geez, all right. No need to make it personal, Piper. Give me a minute.”

Deacon knew that Piper would be proud of her little victory, no matter how small it was. She was just lucky that trader happened to be wandering by.

Danny started fiddling with some levers, and soon the gate to Diamond City started to open.

And Deacon’s heart stopped.

Because there stood his vault dweller.

He was immediately drawn to her eyes, wide and bright green, full of curiosity as she followed behind Piper, with a dog close behind. She was still in her bright blue vault suit, which of all things was probably one of the worst to be wearing while out in the Commonwealth. It stood out like a sore thumb. But as much as he didn’t want to admit it, it complimented her body generously. She wasn't tall, but she wasn't short either. She had her hair cut short, pixie – like, and it was jet black. She was wielding a small pistol, probably a 10mm, close to her chest.

She was one of the most beautiful things he’d since in quite a while.

“Piper! Who let you back inside?” The mayor grumbled,  giving Danny a glare that would scare even a ghoul. “I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut!”

Deacon’s attention was focused on the vault dweller.

_I can't believe she's actually here, in the flesh._

“You devious, rabble-rousing slanderer! The... the level of dishonesty in that paper of yours! I’ll have that printer scrapped for parts.”

“Ohh, that a statement, Mr. McDonough?” Piper spat. “ ‘Tyrant mayor shuts down the press’? Why don’t we ask the newcomer? Do you support the news? ‘Cause the mayor’s threatening to throw free speech in the dumpster.”

Deacon watched as an all too familiar look of bewilderment washed over the woman’s face. The dog sat at her feet, looking up at her lovingly.

She paused before answering, “Always believed in freedom of the press.”

_I like her already._

The three of them bickered back and forth. A lot of Piper being dismissive, a lot of McDonough dismissing everything Piper said. Deacon could feel himself getting a headache from all of this banter. Why did the mayor have to stop by?

He learned that the woman was searching for her son, that he had been kidnapped. He wondered if that had something to do with the story involving the Institute. It wasn’t totally impossible, was it?

Finally, both Piper and the mayor left the woman to herself, and he watched her stand there, looking around. And then her eyes fell on his, and for a moment all went quiet. She gave him a smile, and he let out a quiet “Hey.”

_‘Hey’? That was it?_

Then all too soon, she turned and entered the great, green jewel of the Commonwealth.

***

Diamond City was amazing.

It was unlike anything she’d seen so far. A collective of individuals that throughout the chaos had created a community of safety. It was impressive, and inviting, with numerous shops lining the paths. An infirmary, weapons store, clothing, even somewhere to get your hair cut. She had stopped by each one, eyeing the items with curiosity. She discovered their currency was bottle caps – of all things. She hadn’t thought to collect such things on her journey here, actually pocketing the currency of her time, paper bills and coins, but they wouldn’t accept it. She made a mental note to start looking for these “caps” in the future.

But the thing that she found most incredible, was that this place had been manufactured inside of a baseball stadium, one that Grace had visited a few times before the war. A lot had changed about it, obviously, but it had been clever nonetheless.

Piper had been the one showing her around. Grace liked her. She reminded her of a friend that she used to have when she was just a teenager. Same feisty attitude. She was patient with Grace’s endless questions. She learned a lot. About Diamond City, and just the world around her in general. Eventually Piper left her on her own, having to go check on her younger sister. In a way Grace was happy to be left alone, with only Dogmeat by her side to keep her company.

A lot of the citizens had questions of their own for her. Many asked which vault she was from, and that surprised her. She hadn’t realised there had been other vaults. One of which, Vault 81, was apparently still up and running. That she found fascinating.

She befriended a man named Sheffield, who she’d given a Nuka Cola. After he thanked her, she’d asked if he was interested in work, knowing that Preston Garvey would be needing bodies to help rebuild Sanctuary. He was more than happy to have somewhere to go, and gave Grace a hug before leaving to pack for the journey.

She had also asked around about Shaun. No one had heard much about a missing child, but a couple directed her to a detective named Nick Valentine. He had an agency right here in Diamond City. Grace thought that if anyone could help her find her son, it would be him.

She made her way to the detectives office, Dogmeat running ahead and sniffing almost anything he came across. Soon, she found herself in front of a neon sign reading “Valentine’s Detective Agency”.

_This must be the place._

She opened the door cautiously, and was surprised to find a woman, shuffling through some papers in one of multiple filing cabinets.

“Told you your luck wouldn’t last forever.” She heard the woman mumble to herself, and Grace stepped closer, clearing her throat.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“Another stray coming in from the rain. ‘Fraid you’re too late. Office is closed.”

Grace felt her heart fall. “I know you must be busy, but I won’t take much of your time, miss. It’s important.”

The woman let out a small sigh, before turning to look at her. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, but it’s just... the detective. He’s gone missing.”

_Of course the one person I need isn’t here._

“Do you have any idea how I could find him?” Grace was desperate. She hadn’t come all this way for nothing.

The woman explained how he was working a case, a kidnapping person case, and he hadn’t been back since. Tracking some gangster named Skinny Malone, whose hideout was in an old vault in an old subway station. Grace offered to help find him, and the woman nearly burst into tears. She told her that Nick should be easy to spot, sporting a trench coat and hat.

Grace left the office and the sun was just starting to set. If she was going to find this detective, she needed help. She made her way to Pipers office, and knocked on the door.

“Glad you stopped by,” Piper beamed, standing aside to let Grace through. “How you holding up, Blue?”

Grace looked at her quizzically. “Why are you calling me that?”

Piper just laughed. “’Cause of the blue jumpsuit you’re wearing? You’re a vault dweller.”

Grace glanced down at herself. She’d almost forgotten she had it on. “Of course.”

The two of them sat down across from each other, and Grace began to explain her situation. Piper had already know she was looking for her boy, how she came to Diamond City to try and find him. She told him about Nick Valentine missing, and where his secretary thought he was.

“I heard Nick had been M.I.A,” Piper commented, tugging at one of the gloves she was wearing. “I had no idea it was that serious.”

Grace nodded. “I know this is a lot to ask for, considering we just met and all, but I really need to find him, Piper. I need him to help find my baby.”

Piper thought for a moment. “I’ll help you find Nick, and you give me an interview. I think it’s time Diamond City had a little outside perspective on the Commonwealth.”

Grace grinned, jumping to her feet. “Yes! Of course. Thank you so much!”

The two agreed that it would be best to wait until first thing in the morning. Grace had travelled all day of course, so rest was needed before they set out to find the detective. She managed to rent a room at a place called The Dugout Inn, after selling a few of her more useless items she'd collected for some caps, and finally settled down after a very long day.

_I’m getting closer, baby. Mommy's coming._


	4. The Detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon relaxes for once, and Grace talks to Valentine.

Over the years, Deacon had managed to save enough caps to buy himself a small house in Diamond City. Why he bought a place, he didn’t know for certain, considering how little he was here. In the end it saved him wasting his caps on a room at The Dugout Inn. Too many nights had been spent there, constantly being interrupted by other guests. It was not a wise place to try and get some shut eye. So when he ventured into Diamond City he was relieved he had a place to call his own. Quiet, personable, somewhere he didn’t have to have a disguise. But one of the main reasons why he disliked The Dugout so much, was because Vadim Bobrov scared the living shit out of him.

Yet here he was, masquerading as a drunk local.

One of his favourites to play, actually, and one of the easiest as well. He didn’t even have to have a drink to play someone inebriated. It was pretty simple. Just laugh a lot, slur a few times. Usually he didn’t drink on the job, but for whatever reason tonight he decided he’d let himself relax  a little.

And that reason was paying for a room at The Dugout Inn.

He knew that the vault dweller would be staying there, considering it was the only place _to_ stay without spending an arm and a leg.

It was just the right amount of busy in the Inn. There were only a few other patrons ordering drinks from Vadim, who Deacon was careful to avoid his gaze from. It wasn’t as if the bar keep had done anything to him, it was just his whole boisterous persona was terrifying. He was one of the few people Deacon was highly intimidated by.

He sat in the corner, sipping at a bottle of whiskey, when the woman walked into the room, her dog close behind.

_I really wish I knew her name._

Deacon watched though his sunglasses as a customer flicked on the radio resting on the table in front of him.

“Oh, here we go.” Groaned Yefim, Vadim’s brother, as he leaned against the wall.

“Quiet Yefim!” snapped Vadim, and his attention turned to the vault dweller so innocently walking past. “Alright, you. Tell me. Diamond City radio – it’s terrible, yes? Makes you want to cut your own ears off?”

She froze, her eyes flashing to the door and back to Vadim. Clearly she didn’t want to be dealing with any confrontation right now. Deacon watched with amusement.

“Um... I don’t think I noticed.” She replied.

_I like this girl, a lot._

“You listen to it. It grates on ears like sandpaper. Zis DJ, Travis, he is disaster.”

Vadim went on to inform his distaste for Travis Miles, the DJ for Diamond City Radio. Deacon had to admit, that he wasn’t the greatest at what he did, but he wasn’t the worst either. Deacon was amused when Vadim suggested "getting rid" of Travis, and the woman was appalled. It had all been a joke, of course, which didn’t surprise him in the least. Vadim liked to joke, but he wasn’t exactly the greatest.

The entire time Deacon’s focus was on the woman. He could tell almost instantly she had somewhere else to be. She kept shifting her weight to either hips, seeming to favour the left side. Deacon wondered if there was some sort of injury there. She kept tapping her fingers on her arms that were wrapped loosely around her. Once when she looked towards the door, those green eyes of hers fell on Deacon’s and once again his breath hitched. Just as quickly, her attention was brought back to that of Vadim’s who was now convincing her to help Travis gain more confidence. 

_What is this woman doing to me?_

Reluctantly, she followed Vadim into the back, and Deacon lost visual on the both. He sighed, finishing the remainder of the whiskey, and decided then was a good time to head outside.

He waited along the far side of the wall, briefly hidden in shadows, until the vault dweller finally came out of the Inn.

Relief was washed across her face, and she smiled, almost running from the Inn, her dog right beside her. Deacon trailed a distance away from her, and he followed her to Piper’s office. She knocked on the door a few times, before Piper answered and ushered her in.

_Great, more waiting._

Deacon sat on a bench nearby, and occupied himself by reading the paper Piper had published. But he found himself reading the same sentence over and over. Distracted, he looked up, watching children run past him, vendors selling items, and people just generally enjoying themselves. It was a good feeling, and it really made him question why he didn’t swing by more often.

“I really appreciate you helping me with this, Piper.” Came the dweller’s voice suddenly, and Deacon returned his attention to her and Piper.

“I told you, Blue, it’s not a problem.” Countered Piper, as she locked up her office behind her. They were both carrying pistols and the dweller was now wearing pieces of armour around her arms and legs. Her dog sat panting at her side.

“And I told you, it’s Grace.”

_Grace._

He finally knew her name.

“Grace, Blue, it doesn’t really matter does it?”

He watched the dweller – Grace – sigh, and the two of them walked up the stairs, out of Diamond City.

***

She had no idea how she was still alive.

Grace and Piper had managed to find Nick, not without massacring a bunch of Triggermen first. They of course had no idea what they were getting into, but once they found the underground vault that was guarded by a few men, Grace knew they had gone in way over their heads. She was lucky to have Dogmeat with her, as he was able to take down a few of the Triggermen, but even then he had been more of a hazard. She hated to see him in that position.

It really was a miracle they had survived as long as they did before finding Nick, but not without some incidents. Grace had been nicked in a couple spots by some rouge bullets, swiftly bandaged by Piper. She was also now sporting a black eye after a struggle with one of the men they’d unsuccessfully snuck up on. Piper had unfortunately been shoved to the ground, and her shoulder had taken the brunt of it. But aside from a few small injuries, the two of them were fine. Physically maybe, mentally...

Grace didn’t really want to get into it.

Which brought her attention to another thing.

Nick.

Nick Valentine was a synth.

Grace still didn’t quite understand the technicalities of a synth, only briefly discussed with Piper before finding him. But what mostly shook her was how... mechanical the man was. He had faded skin, stretched over a frame of some sort, his neck exposing the metal. Yellow eyes staring back. He had one metal hand that had held a cigarette when they met. Grace had been ashamed to admit to herself how horrible she thought he looked at first, but quickly enough his personality shone through and she saw him as the man he was.

After they had all exited the vault, Nick was immensely grateful. They agreed to meet back at Diamond City, and Piper and Grace walked side by side in silence the short walk home.

Once reaching Diamond City, Piper wanted to come with her to talk with Nick, but Grace insisted for her to get some rest. After much disagreement, Piper finally gave in and headed back to her office, taking Dogmeat with her, while Grace walked towards Valentines Detective Agency.

Nick was talking with his secretary – Ellie – as Grace entered.

“...you keep laughing at death, some day Death’s going to laugh back.” Said Ellie, her arms crossed.

Nick looked at Grace as she walked up to the two. “Not as long as I got a few friends to back me up.”

Ellie turned to her and looked as if she were about to cry. “You saved Nick, this agency, and my job. Thank you.”

Grace smiled. “Happy to do it.”

“Alright,” said Nick, as he settled into a chair behind an old wooden desk. “Let’s get down to business. Take a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”

Grace nodded and slowly sat down opposite to Nick. She held her hands tight in her lap.

_Time to get Shaun back._

“When you’re trying to find someone whose gone missing, the devil is in the details. Tell me everything you can,” Nick said, leaning forward in his chair. “no matter how... painful it might be.”

_Deep breaths, you can do this._

“We were in a vault when it happened. Vault 111. It was some kind of cryo facility.”

She could still remember how cold she was when she woke up.

“You were on ice, huh? More importantly, you were underground. Sealed up. That’s a lot of obstacles to get through just to take one person.” Nick started spinning an unlit cigarette in between his fingers. “What else can you tell me?”

Grace took a breath, and told him the rest.  She described how her husband had been murdered, how he was trying to keep them from taking Shaun. Nick mentioned a few groups that may have been the ones to carry out such an elaborate plan, and the last one he mentioned was The Institute.

“So you think this, Institute is responsible?” Grace asked, clenching her jaw tight as she held back tears.

“Well, they’re the bogeyman of The Commonwealth. Something goes wrong, everyone blames them. Easy to see why.” Nick stood up, and began pacing. “Those early model synths of theirs strip whole towns for parts, killing everything in their way. Then you got the newer models, good as human, that infiltrate cities and pull strings from the shadows. Worst of all, no one knows why they do it, what their plan is, or where they are. Not even me, and I’m a synth myself. A discarded prototype, anyway.”

Grace was silent. This was a lot to take in. Who knew what this Institute was really capable of? Why would they kidnap an innocent child?

“Either way, I need to find Shaun.” Grace whispered.

“You’re right.” Nick said and stopped pacing, sitting back down in his chair. “This speculation is getting us off track. Let’s focus on what you saw. What did these kidnappers look like?”

Having to go back to that moment and recall what happened to Nick was not getting any better. Grace described the two people, the woman dressed in some sort of hazmat suit, and the man wearing armour of sorts. She mentioned that the man had come right up to her, bald and with a scar over his eye.

“Wait,” said Nick suddenly. “It couldn’t be... You didn’t hear the name, ‘Kellogg’ at all, did you?”

Grace thought for a moment. “No... they never said their names.”

Nick scratched at his chin. “Hmm, it’s way too big of a coincidence. Ellie, what notes do we have about the Kellogg case?”

Ellie stood from leaning against the wall and walked over to one of the filing cabinets, digging through the folders. She found the one, and flipped open to a page.  “The description matches. Bald head. Scar. Reputation for dangerous mercenary work, but no one knows who his employer is.”

“And he bought a house here in town, right? And he had a kid with him, didn’t he?”

“Yeah that’s right. The house in the abandoned West Stands. The boy with him was around ten years old."

"You said he lives here?" Grace asked. "He's still in town?"

And the next thing Grace knew, both her and Nick were standing in front of what used to be this Kellogg’s house. Nick was unable to unlock it, but somehow Grace managed, and soon they were both stepping foot inside. Immediately a wave of unease washed over Grace and she hugged herself tight.

_Had Shaun really been in here?_

“Let’s take a look around.” Said Nick, as he began examining the walls. “Kellogg must of left something behind.”

Grace nodded and headed up the small set of stairs. There was a bed and a dresser, with not much else. A few items lay scattered about but nothing that would arouse suspicion. She walked back down the stairs, and examined a small desk. She knelt down, and noticed a strange button hidden underneath. She pressed it, and suddenly the wall behind them slid away to reveal another room.

“Well that’s one way to hide a room.” Said Nick as they both walked inside. Several shelves harboured food, ammo, guns, with an armchair in the centre. “Well look at this... all of mercs favourite things.”

Grace walked over to the chair, and held up a bottle that had been on the side table. “Gwinnett Stout Beer... forty-four caliber bullets... and, cigars. ‘San Francisco Sunlights’.”

“Interesting brand,” Nick quipped. “Won’t lead us to anything on its own, though.”

Grace lit up, and grabbed a few of the cigars. She started running out the door, a confused Nick behind her, and she ran all the way to Pipers office.

If anyone could help with this, Dogmeat’s nose would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly getting there. Finally had some time to work on the next Chapter. A little bit longer, but I want to put these parts in. Deacon's part is fairly short in this Chapter, mainly because I wanted to focus mostly on the moment with Nick with Grace. I feel as though its a pretty important part in the game. Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~mash~


	5. The Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon waits patiently, and Grace confronts her nemesis.

The sun was just starting to set as he sat there, polishing one of his many guns. Each lay on the table in front of him, neatly beside each other. That was one thing Deacon took pride in, was keeping his weapons spotless. This wasn’t the kind of environment where you would be fine if something were to go wrong with one of them. One mistake and the next thing you knew you’d be fertiliser for someone’s tatos. You couldn’t afford to be careless. So almost every other night, Deacon would painstakingly clean and polish each of his pistols, or the ones he was carrying at least. It also kept his mind occupied when he wasn’t currently on a job. Well, he was, but at the moment his certain subject was out.

He wasn’t sure when Grace would be back in Diamond City. The last he saw of her, was in the morning when her and Nick had left in a hurry. At the time he had no idea where in the Commonwealth they could be going, but after asking around he discovered that they were in search of a man named Kellogg. Deacon was all too familiar with the name, as he knew Conrad Kellogg had done numerous missions for the Institute. He was a very dangerous man. Deacon had no idea why Grace would be tracking down a violent mercenary. Maybe he knew something about her son?

_I highly doubt that._

He had wanted to follow her, obviously, but when he learned that the detective Nick Valentine was with her, he felt a little at ease. Nick was a great man, and an even better shot. She couldn’t have picked a better companion to accompany her.

_I can think of one._

He sighed, finally finishing putting back together the last of his weapons, and set it down on the table, stretching his arms over his head. His back popped with satisfaction. He forgot how much he could get lost in the moment and his aching neck was a reminder.

Meticulously placing his weapons back in their armoire, he locked the cabinets, and decided to stretch his legs. He removed his sunglasses from atop his head, and secured them back in place, shading his eyes.

Although his place in Diamond City was small, it still had two floors, so he climbed the steep set of stairs that lead to his bedroom. He grabbed a straw hat that had been tossed on his bed and placed it on his head. To the left of his bed was a door which lead to a small balcony that he absolutely adored. Too many nights he had spent out there, reading one of  many plays by Shakespeare, under the moonlight. It was peaceful, and Deacon liked peaceful. He was currently reading Hamlet for the third or fourth time. He couldn’t remember.

The copy he’d found was old. Very old. Most of the pages had been dog-eared, stained with who the heck knows, and ripped to beat hell. But he didn’t care.

He sat in the armchair he’d drug up those stairs, and opened to the page he had bookmarked with an old piece of cardboard.

_Act 1, Scene 2_

_“O, that this too too sullied flesh would melt;_

_Thaw and resolve itself into a dew,_

_Or that the Everlasting had not fixed_

_His canon ‘gainst self-slaughter! O God, God,_

_How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable_

_Seem to me all the uses of this world!”_

_~ Hamlet_

This was Deacon’s favourite quote.

He continued to read to himself, the sun almost completely out of sight. Diamond City was well lit enough that he could continue to read even with the sun gone. It was the moonlight he preferred, but that was a few hours away yet.

So he sat there and read, allowing himself to be selfish for just a little bit longer.

***

It had taken them less than half of the day for them to track down Kellogg’s whereabouts. It had lead them to Fort Hagen, an old military base, that was actually not far south from Sanctuary. The thought that it had been here all along made Grace sick to her stomach, but she was glad to have both Nick and Dogmeat at her sides. The easiest part had been taking down all of the turrets on the roof, but dealing with all of the synths inside was something Grace had never experienced. Sure she had taken down Raiders, but those were people. These were machines. Pieces of metal. Of all things she couldn’t help but wonder, was if killing all of these synths had any effect on Nick, but anytime she went to ask he had killed another. That seemed to answer her questions.

Time went slow as they took out synth after synth, making their way deeper into the basement of Fort Hagen. Grace should have been tired, but she was running on adrenaline. Running on the only thought that her son could be down here.

_He’s gotta be here._

It wasn’t until they had killed yet another synth for the umpteenth time, when a voice came over a loud speaker, sending chills down her spine.

“If it isn’t my old friend, the frozen TV dinner. Last time we met, you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler.”

Grace froze, her hands starting to shake.

That was the voice, all right.

The one that haunted her dreams almost every night.

Nick gave her a look to indicate them to keep going. She took a breath and they continued on, her senses on full alert now.

“Sorry your house has been a wreck for two hundred years. But I don’t need a roommate. Leave.” His voice echoed through the small corridors, but she tried to ignore him. He was taunting her, that’s all. Hiding in some room, sending his synths after them. Soon they approached a large metal door, and with hesitation she pushed it open.

She heard Kellogg sigh over the loudspeaker. “Never expected you to come knocking on my door. Gave you fifty fifty odds of making it to Diamond City. After that? Figured the Commonwealth would chew you up like jerky.”

He was just starting to piss her off more now, adding more fuel to the fire.

Grace and Nick killed more synths as they listened to Kellogg taunt more and more, making their way further into the command centre. Grace could barely hear him anymore as her main focus was on the synths in their way, them becoming easier to eliminate. Nick stayed silent at her side.

Once again Kellogg’s voice boomed around them.

“It’s not too late. Stop. Turn around and leave.” Grace’s ears couldn’t help but perk up. This was a much different tone than that of the comments he’d made earlier. “You have that option. Not a whole lot of people can say that.”

Finally, they approached a room, littered with old military paraphernalia. In front of them was a large door, and Grace knew that behind it, would be the man that kidnapped her son.

“Okay, you made it.” Kellogg sighed, sounding almost defeated. “I’m just up ahead. My synth’s are standing down. Let’s talk.”

The metal door suddenly opened with a hiss, and Grace took a deep breath.

_This is it._

She stepped through, Nick and Dogmeat behind, and soon she was standing face to face the murderer of her husband.

“And there she is,” he said, slowly walking closer to her. “The most resilient woman in the Commonwealth.”

Grace stared down the man. So many emotions began to flood through her. Anger. Hatred. Despair.

“You came a long way,” he continued. “Let’s hear it.”

“Enough!” Grace shouted, fingers tightening around the shotgun she had begun to favourite. “Just... where is my baby?”

Kellogg simply scoffed. “Lady, I’m just a puppet like you. My stage is a litter bigger, that’s all. Shaun’s a good kid. So maybe he’s not quite a ‘baby’ anymore. But he’s doing great. Only... he’s not here. He’s with the people pulling the strings.”

Grace felt her heart practically shatter. “Goddamn it, you mercenary mother fucker! Where. Is. My. Son?!”

“What’s the cliché? ‘So close, but yet so far away?’ That’s Shaun.”

_Fuck you, you piece of shit._

“But don’t worry,” he continued, stepping closer to her as she backed away. Nick stood with his gun raised and Dogmeat let out a low growl. Kellogg stopped, taking one step back. “You’ll die knowing he’s safe, and happy. A bit older than you expected, but ah well. At least he’s in a loving home. The Institute.”

“So where is it, huh? This, ‘Institute’? How do I get there?”

Kellogg almost laughed. “Haven’t you been paying attention? You don’t find the Institute. The Institute finds you. You open a closet, it’s just a closet. You can never find the monster that hides inside. Not until it jumps out at you.”

Kellogg began to reach down to his own pistol. “But I think we’ve been talking long enough. We both know how this has to end. So... you ready?”

Grace shifted the shotgun in her hands, her heart beating a million miles a minute.

She knew exactly what she needed to do.

“Oh, I’m ready,” Grace responded, “Question is – are you?”

Chaos erupted. Guns started firing at one another, bullets pinged off metal. Grace’s only intention was one thing.

Kill Kellogg.

And her draw had been faster.

The back of his head had exploded, pieces flying everywhere. He dropped in an instant, and Grace felt the tiniest hint of relief.

She had did it.

“Grace!” she heard Nick shout, and she turned, before being pinned to the floor by one of Kellogg’s synths. She let out a scream as he slammed his baton across her side, sending waves of pain up her ribs.

_Not today._

She managed to turn her body and she wrapped her arms around the synths head, tearing it as hard as she could. It released with a spray of sparks that burned her face. Nick ran over as she tossed the head to the side, and he helped her up, and she winced, knowing her ribs were either broken or bruised. Or both.

“You did good, kid.” He said, and Grace felt herself smile.

They made their way over to Kellogg’s body and searched around. The guy had practically been a synth himself, made mostly of metal and wiring. She had pulled a strange device of sorts from the mess that had been his head and was surprised that the lack of gagging.

_I guess the Commonwealth will do that to you._

“So Kellogg wasn’t giving us any bull.” Said Nick as Grace logged into one of the terminals to find anything else on Shaun. “Your son really is on the inside. Even I don’t know where the Institute is, and they built me.”

“You don’t know anything, Nick?” Grace hated to ask, but she had to.

“Look at me, I’m trash. They threw me in the junk pile ages ago. Just another discarded prototype. Didn’t exactly leave me the house keys.” Nick sighed. “We’re in the weeds, here. Time to take a step back. Bring in some fresh eyes. The only person I know willing to snoop up the Institute’s tail feathers is Piper. I say we head her way. Talk this through.”

Grace smiled. “Diamond City it is.”


	6. The Memory Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon heads to Goodneigbor and Grace meets Dr. Amari.

It didn’t take long for Deacon to hear of Grace’s return. Piper’s shrieking had been enough indication. He had been enjoying some noodles from Takahashi’s stand when the detective and the vault dweller came stumbling down those stadium steps. Looking a little worse for wear. It had been nearly three days since they first left, and he had to admit he had been starting to get antsy. Seeing Grace come down those stairs, he had nearly jumped up and ran to meet here, but he stayed put. Which had been odd, considering he had never felt the need before when he was scoping out a previous subject.

_She knows how to take care of herself._

It hadn't been long before Grace and Nick emerged from Piper’s office. The two exchanged a few words, and Deacon had watched as the two parted ways, Grace heading back to the Dugout, Nick most likely to his own office. He had heard one word that was clear of where she was headed next.

Goodneighbor.

Good, old Goodneighbor.

It hadn’t taken him long to get there, of course. He knew all the shortcuts around the city. Including a back entrance to the settlement that he didn’t think even Hancock knew about. And he hoped it stayed that way.

Deacon could dress a bit more casually at Goodneighbor. The Railroad and Hancock had a mutual agreement where they could lay low and he would simply turn a blind eye. Deacon didn’t mind Goodneighbor, not only for that reason. It had its own charm, if you didn’t mind sleeping with one eye open. Open to mostly outsiders, it was the place people went to who didn’t fit in. A lot of Ghouls, chem-pushers, and people like Deacon. Which was why he simply donned one of his favourite outfits, a long sleeved plaid shirt over his plain white one, and jeans.

He was leaning against the wall in between Kill Or Be Killed, and Daisy’s Discounts, arms crossed. It was warmer out than usual, so he rolled up his sleeves while listening to the humming of KL-E-O as she mistakenly sold a gun to some chem-head who definitely didn’t need one. He watched as one of the residents, Finn, walk towards the entrance, stopping to light a smoke.

_Probably coming from the Third Rail. That drunk._

Deacon didn’t really care much for Finn. He was always trying to get people to pay their way into Goodneighbor, even if they were already living here. He’d done the same to Deacon, but had graciously shut up his face when Deacon raised his pistol to his nose.

_That was a fun day._

Deacon wiped away a bead of sweat forming underneath the bridge of his glasses when the gates to Goodneighbor opened. Nick Valentine strut through, with Piper and Grace close behind.

_Finally._

Deacon noticed that Grace was no longer in her vault suit. Instead, she was wearing a leather jacket and some black pants, stitched up in numerous places, with a knife strapped to her thigh. He had to admit that she suited this look much better than that vault suit, considering how it was bright blue, and you know, wasn't exactly the most inconspicuous. 

“Hey, hold up there.” Finn said, throwing his cigarette butt to the ground and walking over to Grace. “First time in Goodneighbor? Can’t go walking around without insurance.”

_Here we go._

Deacon watched Grace roll her eyes. “Unless it’s, ‘keep-dumb-assholes-away-from-me’ insurance, I’m not interested.”

_Woah. Now this was new._

Deacon couldn’t help but grin.

“Now don’t be like that,” Finn replied, stepping around Piper who glared at him, arms crossed. “I think you’re going to like what I have on offer.” Grace looked hardly amused, but gave a nod. “You hand over everything you got in them pockets or ‘accidents’ start happenin’ to ya. Big, bloody, ‘accidents’.”

Hancock chose that moment to finally emerge from the Old State House, walking over to the three of them. “Woah, woah, time out.” He said gravelly, “Someone steps through the gate the first time, they’re a guest.” He looked over at Finn. “You lay off that extortion crap.”

“What do you care?” Finn scoffed. “She aint one of us.”

“No love for your Mayor, Finn? I said, let her go.”

Finn spat on the ground. “You’re soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there’ll be a new mayor.”

“Come on, man.” Hancock stepped a little closer to Finn. “This is me we’re talking about. Let me tell you something...”

And then not much to Deacon’s surprise, Hancock unsheathed a knife from within his red coat, and stabbed Finn in the chest. Twice. He looked over at Piper who was in shock, but Grace he saw her expressionless. He cocked his head to the side slightly. She had definitely changed, but he still wasn’t sure if it was for the better or worse.

“Now why’d you have to go and say that?” Hancock spoke to the, now, dead Finn on the ground. “Breaking my heart over here.” He then turned towards Grace. “You alright sister?”

“You killed him?” she asked simply, eyeing the body on the ground.

“Got a good pair of eyes on ya.” Hancock chuckled. “I think you’ll fit in here. Goodneighbor’s of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone’s welcome.”

Grace just looked at the Ghoul. “’Of the people, for the people?’ Oh brother...”

Now Hancock was really cackling. “I can tell I’m going to like you already. Just consider this town your home away from home... so long as you remember who’s in charge.”

Hancock turned away, and joined the side of Fahrenheit, and disappeared around the corner.

Piper joined Grace’s side as they walked past the body. “Come on, I think we should get a place at Hotel Rexford before heading to the Memory Den.”

_Memory Den? Interesting..._

Grace was on his side as the two of them passed, and he couldn’t resist. “What a day, huh?”

She smiled, rolling her eyes almost as if this sort of thing happens to her every day. “Tell me about it.”

He smiled back, of course, and their gaze lingered on each other’s for a brief moment, before she looked back to something Piper had said.

Deacon wasn’t really paying attention.

But what he did know, was he needed to get to the Memory Den before they did.

***

So far, today had been absolutely ridiculous, and she knew it was only going to get more so.

Grace had made it to Goodneighbor, which immediately she was slightly terrified of. A man was murdered right in front of her eyes and she had barely step foot inside. By the mayor, of all people, who just happened to be a Ghoul. Not a feral, as Piper later explained. Ghouls had simply been infected by so much radiation that it turned them into , well, something else. Which then had lead her to stumbling into the only person she had met from before the war – Mister Vault-Tec himself. Piper and Grace had been checking into the Hotel Rexford when they were approached by the Ghoul. After slight confrontation, she had convinced him to head back to Sanctuary, knowing Preston was most likely still needing help in the rebuild. Nick and her had almost made a detour there after dealing with Kellogg, but she knew she needed to get answers.

Another thing she couldn’t shake was the man she had exchanged a few words with. He seemed awfully familiar, but she just couldn’t seem to wrap her head around where she had seen him before.

_He must just have one of those faces._

Piper tore her attention away from him, reminding her of why they were here.

The two of them made their way to the Memory Den, where they found Nick flirting with an attractive older woman, lounging on a chaise.  She told him that Amari was downstairs, so Grace and Piper followed behind Nick down into the basement.

“Doctor Amari?” Nick asked, knocking lightly on an open door.

“Yes?” came a reply, and the three of them were greeted by a woman in a lab coat, with short black hair much like Grace’s. Her face was scrunched over a clipboard in her hands.

“We need your help, doctor.” Grace said, stepping forward.

_Best to get right to the point._

“I need the memories from a man named Kellogg,” she paused briefly. “but, he’s dead.”

“I know it’s asking for a miracle, Amari,” Nick commented. “but you’ve pulled off the impossible before.”

Dr. Amari looked between the two, mouth in a straight line, but an eyebrow greatly raised. “Are you two mad? Putting aside the fact that you’re asking me to defile a corpse, you do realise that the memory simulators require intact, _living_ , brains to function?”

“Please.” Grace begged. “Nick told me you’re the only one who could make this work.”

“This dead brain had inside knowledge of the Institute, Amari.” Nick said, walking to the doctor’s side. “The biggest scientific secret of the Commonwealth. You need this, and so do we.”

Dr. Amari looked at Nick for a while, before looking back to Grace. She let out a long sigh. “Fine. I’ll take a look, but no guarantees...”

The next thing Grace knew, Dr. Amari was hooking up the brain implant she had with her, to Nick's own system. An attempt to find out what was stored in that thing.

“Let’s see here,” Amari said, tightening some wires. “I need you to keep talking to me, Mister Valentine. Any slight change in your cognitive functions could be dire. Are you... feeling any different?”

Grace watched Nick wince slightly. “There’s a lot of flashes... Static. I can’t make any sense of it, Doc.”

Dr. Amari frowned. “That’s what I was afraid of. The mnemonic impressions are encoded. It appears the Institute has one last fail safe. There’s a lock on the memories in the implant.”

“Tell me you have a way past this, doctor?” Grace asked, and Piper stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder.

The doctor closed her eyes. “Let me think.” She backed away from Nick and slowly started pacing. “The encryption is too strong for a single mind. But, what if we used two? We load both you and Mister Valentine into the memory loungers. Run your cognitive functions in parallel. He’ll act as a host while your consciousness drives through whatever memories we can find.”

Grace needed some time to think about this. She really wanted to get the answers, and she knew that Kellogg would have them. She had no idea what would happen from this, but knew it had to be done. She had to do it for Shaun.

“Alright,” Grace said after some time. “Let’s get started.”

“Just sit down over there, and keep your fingers crossed.”

Grace walked over to the memory lounger, and climbed inside the pod, getting as comfortable as she could. Dr. Amari closed the lid over her, and Grace couldn’t help but feel that sense of claustrophobia again. She hadn’t had anything like it Before, but after spending time in that vault...

She folded her hands in her lap and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“See you on the other side.” said Nick.

“Initiating brain wave migration between the transplant and the host.” Dr. Amari’s voice sounded from the speakers around Grace. “Mnemonic activity coming from the transplant! It’s degenerated, but it’s there! We’re going to load you into the strongest memories we can find.”

Grace’s vision started to get cloudy, and it was becoming harder and harder for her to keep her eyes open. She could barely hear the doctor, almost like she was under water, her voice muffled in her ears. She thought she could hear Piper trying to say something, but by that point she was unable to hear anything. And then, darkness.


	7. The Freedom Trail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon finds out more about Grace, and she decides to follow the Freedom Trail.

Deacon was laying in one of the memory loungers when Grace came back upstairs.

He had managed to get to the Memory Den before either of them arrived, changing into something else quickly before heading there. Not that they’d be able to recognise him under one of the pods. He had actually never used one before, seeing what others went through when they went under. He knew it was to help them in a way, but he mostly saw it as the same as if someone huffed jet every day. Re-living countless memories like that could turn into an addiction real quick. Not that he was opposed to others doing it, but he particularly didn’t want to partake.

He had to live through it all once before; he didn’t want to do it again.

He watched through his sunglasses as Grace slowly walked towards Nick, followed by Piper. Nick had come up before the two a short while ago. Deacon noticed Grace’s cheeks were stained with what he could only assume were dried tears. Her eyes were tinted red, and swollen.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine what sort of stuff she had seen. He hadn’t figured out too much from being here, but he had overheard Irma talking to another customer about how Grace and Nick had killed Conrad Kellogg, and had some sort of piece of his brain with them. Amari must have figured out a way to connect the two together to access his memories. Which was crazy in itself, but Deacon was just impressed the mercenary was finally dead.

The Railroad had been trying to get him for years.

_This would mean he must have had something to do with her boys disappearance._

_Which meant... the story about someone breaking into the vault was true._

_Kellogg had stole Grace’s child._

Deacon couldn’t help but shudder.

_She probably had to relive that moment through his eyes._

He knew all too well what it was like to watch someone die.

“Hey, Valentine?” he heard Grace ask the detective. From this angle he could no longer see them without arousing suspicion. But he could hear them.

“Hope you got what you were looking for inside my head.” came a voice that Deacon somewhat recognised, but knew it definitely wasn’t Nick’s. He heard the voice chuckle. “I was right. Should’ve killed you while you were on ice.”

Deacon heard Grace gasp. “What did you say?” she asked, a slight tremor in her voice.

“What, what are you talking about?” Nick’s voice returned.

There was a pause. “You sounded like Kellogg just then.” Grace whispered.

“Did I?” Nick replied. “Amari said there might be some ‘mnemonic impressions’ left over... Anyway I feel fine, so let’s get going. Or, I could head back to Diamond City, since you’ve got company already.”

“Actually, I was hoping just to get some time to myself.” said Grace with a sigh. “Both of you have been amazing, but I need some time to just go over things. Today has... well, it’s been a day.”

“I understand, Blue.” said Piper.

“Good luck out there, kid.” came Valentine. “You know where to find us.”

“I’ll see you around, Nick.” replied Grace, and Deacon listened as the detective and the reporter left. He heard Grace sigh, and then she was gone as well.

Deacon waited a few moments before climbing out of the pod. Irma was busy talking to Dr. Amari so they were unaware of him slipping out through the back.

He decided it was finally time to give HQ a visit.

***

It had been two days since the Memory Den incident happened. Not that it was a bad thing, but it had taken a toll on Grace.

Shaun was not the baby she remembered, but was now ten years old, who had been looked after by Kellogg for the Institute. The Institute, which used teleportation to get in and out, and that there was a scientist named Brian Virgil who was hiding from them in the Glowing Sea. The Glowing Sea, which she needed to travel into, to track down said scientist, to find out more.

It was so much information, anyone in their right mind would be going crazy.

This was why the first night she spent in Goodneighbor, had been down at the Third Rail, getting absolutely shitfaced.

Well, maybe not shitfaced, but she had definitely knocked back a few. She also remembered getting hit on a lot. From the singer, Magnolia, of all people, and another mercenary named MacCready. Both of which she hadn’t been drunk enough to do anything with.

The second night had been spent in her room at the Hotel Rexford, laying on the bed and crying.

Both nights not exactly her preferred means of spending time to herself and thinking things over.

Which was why today, things were going to be different.

After checking out, she found herself wandering around Goodneighbor. Oddly enough, she had begun to like it. It no longer scared her. The people here were friendly, and she had talked to a lot of them while at the Third Rail. Being inebriated helped her be social, of course, but she recognised a few people and they had waved, her waving back in return. No one cared what anyone thought here, and she had to admit she liked that a lot. She was beginning to get used to this new life.

Grace visited KL-E-O at Kill Or Be Killed, and at first she was surprised to be tended to by an assaultron of all people, but that was just the kind of thing that had Grace liking Goodneighbor. Everyone, no matter what you looked like, or what you did, was accepted. Of course there were still bad people, but anywhere you went these days there were bad people.

So Grace had filled up on more ammo, now wielding the pistol Kellogg had used. She stocked up on more medical supplies, and food. She really liked Daisy, who ran the general store. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but Grace knew she just needed to get out and do something. No more cowering in bed, or drinking her feelings away. She wasn’t quite ready to face the Glowing Sea, but she needed to do something.

As she was opening the gate to leave Goodneighbor, she looked up and saw the mayor, Hancock, waving down at her. She gave a little wave back, and shut the gates behind her.

_What a strange, strange, man._

Grace found herself wandering the city that once was Boston, Massachusetts. She recognised some things from Before, but a lot of things had changed. This was the first time she had travelled the Commonwealth by herself, having Nick and Piper head back to Diamond City without her. She had felt bad at first, telling them that she needed space, but she knew that they had understood. Piper had been planning on spending the night with Grace, but thankfully there had still been lots of daylight left for her to travel with Nick. Even if it had been dark, she was with Nick, and Grace was thankful for that. Nick was a great person, and he proved an incredible shot when they had been rescuing him.

Grace knew she would be okay on her own. The person who she was know, was a lot different than the person that had first come out of that vault.

She found herself wandering into an open space, that she definitely remembered as the Boston Common. Her and Nate had come here multiple times Before, and she had loved it. It still looked similar, although greatly run down. She walked past a body, and she was surprised at how little it affected her.

_This new world will do that to you, I guess._

She heard a noise and raised her pistol as she neared the entrance to the gate surrounding the small pond, but lowered it as she saw it was only a tour bot. One that had probably been here since her time. As she got closer, she noticed a sign that had been propped up against a statue.

_At Journey’s End Follow Freedom’s Lantern._

“Welcome, Patriot, to Boston Common.” came the robotic voice from the tour bot, walking around aimlessly.  “The start of the Freedom Trail.”

“The Freedom trail, that’s right.” Grace said aloud, looking down at the plate she was practically standing on. She remembered following the Freedom Trail when she was just a little girl. You would follow the red brick line, leading to several historical locations here in Boston. She looked down at the bronze seal, and noticed writing on it.

“Seven, and an A?” she whispered to herself. “Some sort of code, perhaps?”

She then remembered overhearing two locals in Diamond City talking about the Freedom Trail, mentioning some group called the Railroad? Was this connected to them?

“Well, I have nothing else better to do today.” Grace said to the bot, who beeped almost enthusiastically.

Which was how Grace found herself following the Freedom Trail. It wounded around the city, taking her to the front of the Massachusetts’s State House, the Old Granary burying grounds. There she had to deal with some ferals, nothing she hadn’t dealt with before. It lead her past Goodneighbor and she was surprised she hadn’t noticed the red line before. She took her time following the trail, having to deal with a few Gunners, and Super Mutants of all things. Somehow she managed to either sneak past them or take them down. All the while taking mental note of each letter and number written on each seal she came across.

The sun was just starting to set as she approached the statue of Paul Revere, and soon came to the front door of the Old North Church. She wasn’t expecting this journey to be quite so strenuous. Earlier, a bullet from a mutant had just grazed her arm, and she had had to stop and bandage it, but the bleeding had long since stopped. She noticed on the wall of the church an image of a candlelight, and a lantern sat lit on the top step near the door.

_This must be the place._

She cautiously entered the building, only to be greeting by ferals again, which she effortlessly took out. She was beginning to get a lot better at this. She found herself crouching under fallen debris into a doorway, leading down into the basement. She was met with more ferals as she made her way through the cramped hallway, the walls nearly crumbling before her eyes. Why she was even doing this, she had no idea.

She finally came to a dead end, but along the wall was another symbol, similar to the one outside of the church, and a giant dial of sorts. She realised that it spun, and thought back to the numbers and letters she found on her way here.

“No way, it can’t be that easy.” She mumbled to herself as she spun the dials to the corresponding letter. First an R, followed by an A, until she had spelt out RAILROAD.

“You’re kidding me.” She whispered as she heard something unlock and the wall began to slide open.

Cautiously, she held her pistol forward and slowly walked forward. She could feel her heart throbbing in her chest, but she took a breath and inched closer in the darkness.

Suddenly, her vision was blinded by lights, and her heart froze.

“Stop right there...”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! It took so long, but this is the last chapter before they finally meet! I am so freaking excited... hope everyone is enjoying it as much as I am writing this!


	8. The Railroad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace finds the Railroad, and Deacon meets the vault dweller.

“You went through a lot of effort to arrange this meeting.” Deacon heard Dez say. He was hiding just around the corner, out of view of the confrontation.

No one had any idea someone had decided to follow the Freedom Trail, until the locks on that door started to click. Desdemona had immediately called Glory and Drummer Boy to join her to “greet” whoever it was. Glory had decided to go with her favoured mini gun, which Deacon found to be a little too much. Whoever it was, was most likely harmless. So Deacon had taken his time to follow them.  

“But before we go any further, answer my question,” Dez continued.  “Who the hell are you?”

“Put down your weapons first.” The voice replied.

Deacon froze.

_It couldn’t be?_

“Until I determine you’re not a threat, we’ll point our weapons wherever we damned well please.” Dez almost snarled. “It’s clear you’re not with the Institute, but who told you how to contact us?”

Deacon was beaming. He couldn’t believe she was actually here.

“I just heard a rumour about you guys in Diamond City.”

“I see,” Dez murmured. “I’m Desdemona, and I’m the leader of the Railroad. And you are...”

Deacon chose that moment to finally step from behind the corner and walked forward to step beside Dez.

_There she is._

“Deacon, where have you been?” Dez asked, turning to face him.

“You’re having a party.” He replied, trying to hide the grin that was just waiting to burst at any moment. “What gives with my invitation?”

“I need intel. Who is this?”

Now Deacon let out a little smirk, glancing down at Grace, who stood there looking up at the both of them with utter bewilderment. This whole thing was ridiculously staged, considering Dez knew exactly who this was, or as much as Deacon had told her about anyway. When he had come back to HQ just a couple days ago he had filled out the rest of his report about her. But Dez did this with everyone who came through that door. To see if they could trust her enough to tell her things themselves.

 He absolutely loved it.

“Wow, newsflash, boss. This lady is kind of a big deal out there.”

 Grace furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head, looking up at Deacon. “Do we know each other?”

_Oh, if you only knew._

“I didn’t need to meet you to hear about you.” He replied. “You’ve made waves. You’re the one rebuilding the Minutemen out of Sanctuary, right?” he watched her slowly nod. “And... as if that wasn’t enough. The Railroad owes you a crate, hell a truckload of Nuka Cola for what you did to Kellogg. He was our public enemy number one.”

“So, you’re vouching for her?” Dez asked, and Deacon grinned.

“Yes, trust me. She’s someone we want on our side.”

Dez crossed her arms. “That changes things. So, stranger. Why did you want to meet with us anyway?”

Deacon watched as Grace looked down for a brief moment, before returning her gaze to Dez. “My son, Shaun, was kidnapped. I’m looking for help to find him.”

“Someone stole your boy? That’s terrible.” Deacon knew how much Dez hated kidnappings. “Do you know who did it? For your sake, I hope the Institute isn’t involved.”

Grace didn’t even blink. “Kellogg kidnapped him.”

Dez nodded. “Well, you got your revenge. But that doesn’t bring your son back. I’ll have Deacon look into this. If anyone can find a lead on your boy, he can.”

Deacon almost laughed. Of course Dez just had to throw that in there. He had to resist looking at Glory cause he knew she was giving him a look. She knew all about the case he had involving Grace.

“If we’re going to be dealing with you, I need to make sure we’re on the same page.” Dez continued. “You know what a synth is, right?”

Now Grace let out a smile. “Yeah, I know all about them.”

“Good. The Institute treats synths as property. As tools.”

“That sounds like slavery.”

“Exactly.” Deacon knew Dez liked her already. “So we seek to free the synths from their bondage. Give them a chance at a real life.”

Dez then briefly looked over at Deacon before looking back down at Grace. “I have a question. The only question that matters...” Dez uncrossed her arms, and glanced over at Glory. “Would you risk your life for your fellow man? Even if that man was a synth?”

It hardly took any time for Grace to reply. “I risk my life for people every day. Makes no difference to me if it’s a human or a synth.”

Deacon watched Dez smile. “Well said.” She motioned at Glory, and Glory lowered her mini gun, turning it off. “We’ll do what we can to look into your missing boy. What the Institute has done to your family, and others, is what drives us. Normally, you’re exactly the type of person we’d try and recruit. But right now, we don’t have time to train up a new agent. There are, however, other valuable ways you can contribute. And in turn, we can help you. See Deacon for details. You’re free to go.”

***

This had not been what Grace had been expecting at all.

She watched as the woman, Desdemona, turned and retreated back behind the corner to who knows where. The younger woman with silver hair and the mini gun followed suit, as well as the man in the newsboy cap. The only one that remained was a man, Deacon, wearing simply a white t-shirt, jeans, and sunglasses, with dark hair.

She had the strangest inkling that she had seen those sunglasses somewhere before.

She walked over to him.

“Hope you don’t mind the reception.” He said, crossing his arms. “When you tango with the Institute you got to be careful when someone new gets on the dance floor.”

Grace tucked her pistol back in its holder. “Your leader was just being cautious.”

“Exactly.” he replied. “Kind of killed our chance at a friendly first impression, though. But it’s all good now. Nobody got shot.” Grace watched as he picked at something at the hem of his shirt. “Still, I would consider it a close, personal favour if you didn’t sell us out to the Institute. Thanks.”

Grace had no idea what to make of this guy.

He seemed like he held his own. From what she witnessed between him and Desdemona he appeared like an important person in this establishment.But,  he somehow knew almost everything that she had done so far in the Commonwealth, and that kind of freaked her out a little.

“So tell me,” she crossed her own arms. “Why did you vouch for me?”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a little smile. “In our little outfit it’s my job to know things. And with everything you’ve done, it’s clear you’re capable. A dangerous enemy. And, I’m betting, a valuable ally.”

_Dangerous enemy, huh?_

Grace had never thought of herself that way before, but looking back at some of the things she’s done, she could see why she could be.

“Don’t worry,” she said, going back to the previous conversation. “I’ll keep your secret.”

Now he smiled, uncrossing his arms. “That’s what I like to hear.”

He started to slowly pace around her. “So Dez wants me to make you a ‘tourist’. That’s what we call someone who helps out with the odd job here and there. What a waste.” He stopped pacing, and then turned to face her. “I’m just going to come out and say this: The Railroad needs you.”

Grace thought back to the way Desdemona dismissed her so quickly. “You sure they need me? Desdemona didn’t seem to care.”

“She’s just thinking of the time and man power it would take to train you. And if you were some hick from the ‘burbs that didn’t know your ass from a rocket launcher, she’d be right.”

Grace couldn’t help but smile. This guy was kind of funny.

“But,” he continued.  “I’m betting someone like you just needs a few pointers... and a target.”

Grace thought for a moment. “You got my attention.”

“I got a job.” He said almost excitedly. “Too big for me, just perfect for the two of us. You help me out, we turn a few heads, and then Dez invites you into the fold. Then, if you get into a bind and need some help, your buddies at the Railroad got your back.”

Grace had to admit, it would be good to get involved in a group, and not just herself and a few others. She wasn’t sure what Piper or Nick thought about the Railroad, but at this point she was getting desperate. And the more people to help her find the Institute – and Shaun – the better.

“Sign me up then.” She finally replied.

“Perfecto!” he said, grinning, and Grace couldn’t help but notice that he had a very nice smile. Something she had always noticed in people even before the war. “Let’s meet up at the old freeway outside Lexington. I’ll fill you in once you get there.”

And with that the man named Deacon turned and headed up the stairs to the same secret spot Desdemona and the others disappeared into earlier.

She stood there, and couldn’t help but start to laugh.

Here she had spent half of the day following that stupid trail, nearly getting killed in the process, found the Railroad, had almost been shot, and discovered she’d been spied on as well. And here she was, standing alone. And now this Deacon wanted her to meet him for some super secret mission that he didn’t even care to divulge in.

She didn’t really have any other option.

She made her way back to Goodneighbor, and thankfully the room she had been staying in previously hadn’t been claimed yet. She got what sleep she could, which was still hard with everything that had happened. Her dreams were haunted with Kellogg, Shaun, and Nate, and it was a miracle if she could fall asleep for more than an hour at a time. But before she knew it, the sun was already rising.

She didn't need to restock, considering she had just done so yesterday, so she took her time getting ready in the morning, before setting out to meet Deacon.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely a lot shorter than usual, but I couldn't help myself. I needed to finally have these two meet, and its just going to get more awesome from here.


	9. The Switchboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace meets ups with Deacon, and he finally sees her in action.

Deacon was practically beaming with excitement waiting for Grace.

He still couldn’t believe that it was actually happening, that she had found the Railroad. Finally, the two had met, and he was thrilled. He couldn’t wait to start working with her, which was odd because he had never been one for a partnership. But this was different. He didn’t know what it was about her he found so fascinating. Aside from the fact that she was nearly 200 years old, and in pristine condition. Although he had noticed the Commonwealth had taken some toll on her – her arm bandaged up and face marked with scrapes and bruises.

He hadn’t been waiting long by the time he noticed her shape in the distance. She was still wearing that leather jacket and black pants, but as she got closer he saw the knife attached to her thigh had been replaced with another pistol, and she was now wielding a rifle.

He himself had changed, wearing one of his many disguises. Sporting a faded fedora, scarf, and long trench coat. He had decided to add some gloves, mainly because he knew they’d most likely be dealing with synths, and they liked to use those shock batons. Not one of his favourite weapons.

“Deacon, is that you?” Grace asked as she cautiously approached him.

He smiled. “Like the disguise? It’s wastelander camo.” He changed his stance as if he was protecting something. “’This is my pile of garbage, asshole. Back off.’” He laughed to himself, while she just looked up at him. “Good, right? You’re lucky I didn’t do one of my face swaps.”

She raised her eyebrow. “That? Not much of a disguise.”

Deacon couldn’t help but admit he felt a little sting. Sure he had many different costumes of sorts, but this one was his second favourite. “A disguise is more than a wig and some lice-ridden clothes.” he replied. Funny, considering his wig was something he wore more often than not. “You’d be surprised how far I’ve gotten with the right attitude and a clipboard. But about the job... " He paused, and lowered his voice. "The Railroad’s only recently been using the Old North Church. Our old base was underneath a Slocum’s Joe. We had a pretty sweet set up until the Institute found us.”

Sorrow flashed across Grace’s face. “That sounds really, really bad.”

Deacon nodded. “It was a disaster with a capital D. The survivors didn’t have time to grab anything. So we’re getting something important we had to leave behind.”

Grace gave a small smile. “Let’s find it then.”

Deacon was smitten. And he couldn’t do anything about it. “We gotta do one thing first. We got a tourist nearby. He, or she, has intel on the base. So let’s pump him for information before we dive in. For now, I’ll take point.”

Deacon turned to head off towards the old highway, but he felt something grab at his bicep.

“Wait,” Grace said, and he turned, her hand still wrapped around his arm. “We didn’t really formally introduce ourselves.” She said, and dropped her hand extending it towards him. “I’m Grace.”

He smiled, taking her hand in his. “Deacon, but you already knew that.”

He couldn’t believe how soft her hands were.

“And I have a funny suspicion you already knew mine.” she said, giving his hand a final pump before letting go.

“Like I said before,” he replied, wielding his pistol. “It’s my job to know things.”

He lead her up the dilapidated structure that used to be the freeway. Most of it was still standing, but a lot of it had fallen away. He never really liked being this high up, feeling the wind ruffling his jacket. But he wouldn’t tell her that of course. He pointed out a rail sign chalked on some cement barricades. He explained to her their meaning, how this is what the Railroad used to communicate with each other. He had always liked using the signs, and couldn’t help but think back to the one he had left in his little post near her vault. Hard to believe that had only been mere weeks ago. So much had happened in so little time.

They were met with a few ferals, but nothing too extreme. Grace took them out effortlessly next to Deacon, and he was impressed. He had yet to see her really in action, and he was excited for their trip to The Switchboard to find out.

“See the plus in the centre?” he asked as they reached yet another rail sign. “That means there’s an ally nearby. Our tourist. You take point on the conversation.” They walked a bit farther down the highway, and sure enough there was a man at the end surrounded by a makeshift base, a small fire flickering away. Deacon tugged on her arm, pulling her closer. “No matter what he says, just say: ‘Mine is in the shop’”. Trust me.”

He dropped her arm and she nodded, and he could tell she was nervous. She wiped her hands on her pants and walked towards the man. Deacon stood where he was. He recognised who the man was, Ricky, a semi-new tourist.

“Oh thank God,” Ricky said as Grace approached him. “Do you have Geiger counter? Do you have a goddamn Geiger counter?”

“Mine is in the shop.” she replied, and Deacon couldn’t help breathe a sigh of relief.

“Who the hell is he?” Ricky asked, motioning to Deacon. “HQ said they were sending one agent. Not two.”

“Sorry, I’m new.” Deacon quipped, Grace looking back at him. “She’s just showing me the ropes.”

Ricky frowned for a moment. “Alright. The wall as my witness, I thought I was dead. It’s about goddamn time you headquarters bastards got here.”

“Tell me what’s going on.” said Grace.

Ricky guffawed. “I signed on for some light recon. But that little Slocum’s Joe of yours is crawling with goddamn chrome-dome synth sons of bitches.”

Deacon had to resist laughing at the man’s descriptive choices.

“The front’s been fortified to hell and back. They’ve placed mines all over the goddamn place.”

“I appreciate all you’ve done.” Grace said, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder.

His persona changed before Deacon’s eyes. “I hope it helps, I really do. As soon as it’s safe I’m getting the hell out of here. So if you need anything else, better ask soon.”

Grace dropped her hand, and said “Thank you” to Ricky. She turned and met up with Deacon again.

“Well isn’t Ricky just a ray of sunshine.” Deacon said as soon as they were out of his view. “You think he’s telling the truth?”

Grace thought for a moment. “He doesn’t strike me as the dishonest type.”

Deacon flashed a grin. “Yeah that’s my read too. First rule in this business is never go against your guy. So if we take him at his word... the front door has mines, synths, and probably other fun and exciting prizes. So we’re going in through the escape tunnel.”

Grace nodded. “The tunnel has got to be easier than a frontal assault.”

“Easier, but no cakewalk. You lead us there, pal. I got you covered.”

***

Grace still had no idea what to think of Deacon.

When she had seen him donned in that “wastelander” disguise, it had confirmed the suspicion she had about him. He had been following her. She had recalled the moments she had seen him, the earliest being back when she had first travelled to Diamond City. He had been wearing an umpires uniform.

_Clever. But not clever enough._

The one thing that had remained constant was those damned sunglasses. Even now he still wore them, shading his eyes. 

She was a tad furious, obviously, as they paraded across the rundown freeway and towards the tunnel. She began to wonder just how many conversations he had eavesdropped on, what he had all seen. She fumed silently, as he pointed out the way.

But, she had to admit to herself, it wasn’t his fault. It was his job. He had even told her so himself.

_“It’s my job to know things.”_

She had to let that little inkling slide... for now.

They were on a mission after all.

After a short walk, and dealing with a pack of mutts, they found the tunnel entrance. She was pleased to discover her previous teen years experience in lock picking had come in handy once again. The door had opened with a satisfying _click._

“We’re in.” said Deacon after following her in, and shutting the door quietly. “The back entrance _is_ safer, but be ready for Gen One’s and Gen Two’s.”

Grace nodded, and she turned to continue, but Deacon cleared his throat. “So, it’s time you learn why we’re here. We’re retrieving a prototype developed by our good doctor Carrington.”

_Really? A prototype?_

Grace shook her head. “I’m risking my neck here, okay? I want to know what I’m risking it for.”

“So I’ll be straight with you,” he replied. “Although, you’re not going to like it.” He started re-positioning his hat. “I have no idea what the prototype does. Us Railroad agents are treated like mushrooms: kept in the dark, fed... well you get the idea.” He gave up on his hat and dropped his arm back down to his side. “It’s got to be important, though.” he added. “Dez wouldn’t risk our hides lightly.”

That seemed like it had enough validity. Grace could imagine just how valuable Deacon was to the Railroad.

“Let’s find a prototype then.” she finally replied with a smile.

He smiled in return, and she couldn’t help but stare. “Together with you?” he quipped. “I like our odds.”

She could feel her cheeks starting to flush, and she quickly hid her face in the crook of her shoulder, pretending to tend to an itch.

Thankfully, he chose that moment to saunter over to a nearby terminal, and began to punch in some passwords. While he occupied himself with that, Grace took that time to get herself together. She found herself taking a deep breath.

_What in the actual fuck was that?_

Eventually Deacon found the correct password, and soon the pair was making their way through the twisted halls and platforms. They came across a few synths, which Grace wasn’t a stranger to, and took them out easily. They were also met with deceased bodies of fellow Railroad agents, and Deacon had something to say about each one.

They came across a stash of items, marked by another rail sign Deacon pointed out to, meaning a cache was nearby. They each stocked up on a few rounds of ammo, a couple stimpacks, and caps of all things. Wordlessly, they continued through the tunnel, sending sparks and metal flying every each way.

Grace realised that the two of them worked well together. When one was busy with a synth, the other had their back and kept them guarded to others. It was very fluid. Almost a dance of sorts. It made her feel safe, and she liked that.

They came to another terminal that Grace, after a few attempts, successfully unlocked. It opened two doors to a giant room, filled with broken terminals, desks, and of course, a god-awful amount of synths.

She barely had time to think when all of them started shooting simultaneously, and she tried to remember how to breathe. She quickly took aim with her rifle and shot two synths in the head, going down instantly. Three more were advancing and she watched Deacon take out two, but the third one was faster. It sprung through the door and immediately reached for Grace, knocking her to the ground. She struggled against the hard metal as it tried to reach its hands around her. All too soon the synth was violently thrown back and she leaned up on her elbows to see Deacon press the barrel of his gun to the synths temple. Sparks flew and the synth writhed on the ground before becoming still.

Deacon reached out a hand and she took it graciously as he pulled her back to her feet. There were still four more synths to deal with, but both Grace and Deacon took aim. Within moments a bullet pierced through the final synth and all went quiet.

Breathless, Grace listened to Deacon as he explained about the research lab that had been The Switchboard. A Secret Defence Intelligence Agency that had never officially existed. She listened as they made their way around the smoking bodies that had been the synths, and walked up a set of stairs. They continued through the facility, encountering synth after synth, until finally reaching a massive vault. Grace stood with her hand on her hip, as Deacon unlocked a final terminal.

“Open says me.” he said quietly, and Grace had to smirk.

The giant door groaned as bolts slid out of place, and soon the door opened to reveal a room filled with items and crates, as well as a body curled up on the ground.

Deacon said nothing as he walked over to the body and knelt down. “So Tommy Whispers didn’t make it out.” He sighed. “He died protecting our secrets.” Deacon started to move around pieces of the man’s clothing, and then soon was holding a pistol. Deacon stood and walked back towards Grace. “Tommy would want you to have his head cannon.” He held it out to her and she eyed it, taking it in her hands warily. “Don’t let its size fool you.”

“Why are you giving this to me?” she asked, handling the gun as if it were a grenade about to go off.

Deacon smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. She could tell this mission was affecting him. “Our best agents carry special ordinance made by Tinker Tom. He’s...well, you’ll know when you meet him. Call this gun a vote of confidence.”

Grace looked down from Deacon back to the gun and rotated it in her hands. Carved neatly along the barrel was a name,  _Deliverer._

“Grab Carrington’s Prototype.” Deacon said, clearing his throat. Grace walked inside the vault and found the strange device, resembling a Stealth Boy, and tucked it in her pack. “You turn that over to Desdemona and she’ll have to let you into our merry band.”

The two of them collected themselves and made their way out of the room. “There’s an elevator at the end of the hall.” Deacon commented. “It should be a hell of a lot easier fighting the chrome-domes on this side of the minefield.”

Grace smiled at the remark, thinking back to the tourist – Ricky.

“’Those goddamn chrome-dome synth sons of bitches.’” Grace said gruffly, trying her best to impersonate the angry man.

Deacon paused and then started to laugh. Loud, and boisterous, and it made Grace smile.

_I like this guy, a lot._

Deacon managed to contain himself, and the two made their way up the stairs, carefully disabling the cyro mines littering the steps. He effortlessly took out two more synths that had been guarding the elevator, and after powering it back up, stepped in. After a short ride, the doors opened to a secret bookcase door, and Deacon pushed it back, revealing a small room. They slowly walked up another set of small stairs, Deacon in front of her, and they held their guns out, awaiting the synths outside the door. Deacon slowly opened the door, and could make out at least three synths, along with two turrets. One he had managed to deactivate with the terminal downstairs, but the one was still active.

He looked down at her, and she nodded, knowing exactly the plan of attack.

“One...” he said, taking a breath, reloading his gun.

“Two...” Grace continued, _Deliverer_ warm in her hands.

“Three.” they said together.

Deacon burst open the door and began firing at the active turret while Grace handled the synths. She took them down quickly, and after the last one fell the turret exploded.

_Just like that._

“Holy shit.” Grace whispered, as they walked out from the doorway and into the long abandoned cafe. The adrenaline that had filled her body finally started to subside as they stood there. She couldn’t believe they had done it. She also couldn’t help but remember how that synth had been on her, and how Deacon basically saved her life.

“Well, we got what we came for.” Deacon said as he stood there, hands on his hips. “Let’s split up and meet back at the catacombs.”

It kind of hurt that he wanted to split up, but she replied, “Sure.”

He nodded, and turned to leave, but Grace realised she hadn’t thanked him. “Hey!” she said, and dashed towards him as he turned and stopped. “I just wanted to say thank you, for you know, saving my life and all.”

He smiled. “No problem.”

She returned a smile, and watched him turn and begin to walk away. But then she suddenly remembered.

_"The front's fortified to hell and back. They've placed mines all over the goddamn place."_

She looked at the ground near Deacon and could just barely make one out that was hidden just a few steps ahead of him.

“Deacon, wait!” she yelled, and her heart froze as he turned and took a step back, and she watched in horror as his foot landed near the mine. It started to beep and he looked down.  His eyes met hers, filled with fear.

She quickly ran towards him and barely grabbed a handful of his jacket, trying to pull him back inside the building as the mine gave a final beep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the story starts to drift from the main story line. Obviously, you can't romance Deacon so things must need to be done to get things going. 
> 
> Loved writing this chapter because I finally get the two interacting with one another.


	10. The General

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon wakes in a familiar place, and Grace shows him around.

The first thing Deacon realised after he woke was that he was sore. Very sore. Almost his entire body ached as his brain slowly started registering what the hell was going on.

The last thing he remembered was being at The Switchboard. He and Grace had just finished taking out the synths that had been guarding the front entrance to the cafe. He remembered thinking just how fucking in awe he was of this woman. How skilled she was of a weapon, even though she had only been thawed for just over a month. He had been excited to meet her back at HQ to show Dez just how amazing she was and that they needed her. Desperately.

And then he remembered the explosion.

_Grace._

He finally opened his eyes, and they landed on a torn ceiling. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. He raised his eyebrow in confusion, and realised that he was lying on a bed. He tried sitting up, but winced at a sharp pain at his side. He looked to his right and saw a table carrying two cans of purified water as well as a basket of mutfruit. And his glasses. He immediately reached over for them, placing them over his eyes. Then he reached for the water, devouring it in just a few gulps. He wasn’t aware of just how thirsty he was.

He took that time to take in his surroundings. He was in a room, somewhere. He had no idea where. There was a chair tucked in the corner that his trench coat rested upon, folded neatly. His fedora placed on top, underneath his gloves. He looked down at himself and saw he was just in his t-shirt and jeans. He lifted up his shirt and saw his bandaged side, faintly stained pink.

_What the hell had happened?_

_And where the hell am I?_

He cautiously sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, placing a hand on his side. He looked down at his feet and noticed a first-aid kit. He reached down grabbing it, and placed it on his lap. Flipping it open, he saw that inside were a few stimpacks, some med-x, a few bottles of rad-x. Reluctantly, he grabbed a syringe of the stimpack and pressed it into his side near the wound. Almost instantly he could feel relief, and he closed his eyes sighing, feeling the pain subside.

He placed the kit back down, and noticed tiny scratches littering his arms. There was a small burn on his wrist as well, but it didn’t bother him. He decided then to try and stand.

He took it slow, not knowing if anything was broken, but was met with success as he managed to stand in place.

He realised he was in a house. An old house, as the walls harboured a few holes. There was a sheet covering the doorway into the room and he pulled it back, revealing a hallway and a room opposite to his. A sheet was acting as a door as well, and he took a look down the hallway. He could see a couch and a table, and could hear someone milling about in what he assumed was the kitchen.

It was just then that the aroma of cooked radstag filled his nose and his stomach grumbled violently.

He took a few steps into the hallway. He had no idea where he was, or who had saved him, but he needed to find Grace.

“Hello?” he called out cautiously, as he rounded the corner. He saw someone standing near a makeshift stove, stirring a pot. They had dropped the spoon and spun quickly to face him.

_Grace._

“Oh my God, Deacon!” she shrieked, and ran towards him, crashing into his body while wrapping her arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

He winced at the pain in his side, but gladly wrapped his arms around her, bringing her close.

She fit perfectly.

_I’m so glad you’re okay._

“A little worse for wear, but nothing too life-threatening I hope.” he grunted, and she froze, letting go of him way too soon.

“I forgot – I’m so stupid.” she said looking down at his bandaged side mortified. “Are you okay?”

He smiled. “I’m more than okay.”

She looked relieved. “I was freaking out the entire time. Preston told me not to worry, that you needed the rest, but I couldn’t help it.”

Deacon paused. “Preston?”

“Yeah, Preston Garvey? He’s with the minutemen.” She reached over and took his hand. “Let’s sit and I’ll explain everything.”

He gladly followed her to a couch and she began to explain what happened.

She told him after the mine went off, she had managed to pull him back into the Slocum’s Joe, but a lot of debris and shrapnel hit him, and a somewhat large piece got wedged in his side. She had used a flare gun Preston Garvey had given her in case of emergencies and managed to flag down some nearby Minutemen. At that point Deacon had passed out, as the two minutemen and Grace managed to carry him up to Sanctuary, which wasn’t too far away. They had brought him to her house, in her spare bedroom, while a lady named Marcy had tended to his wounds.

He also discovered he had been passed out for two days.

“Holy shit.” he said quietly, mostly to himself, but Grace nodded.

“There was so much blood. I had no idea what was going on. But Marcy said you would be okay so I trusted her.” Grace stood up and walked over to the pot on the stove and gave it a stir. Deacon watched her open the metal door below the stove and put out a fire. She grabbed two bowls and spooned the stew into both and brought them back to the couch.

“Eat.” she said, handing him a bowl. “I know you’re starving, I can hear your stomach.”

At that moment his stomach growled loudly and they both started laughing.

They ate in silence for a few moments, before Deacon cleared his throat. “Thank you, Grace. You saved my life.”

She simply smiled. “How else was I supposed to return the favour?”

Just then there came a knock on the door and Grace said “Come in!”

“General?” Deacon turned and saw Preston Garvey stepping through the door. “Just checking to make sure things are – Deacon. Glad to see you up and at ‘em.”

_General?_

“He just got up not long ago,” Grace said, standing up to bring her bowl to a sink. “He’s doing fairly well.”

“Excellent. Will tell the others the good news. Mama Murphy won’t shut up.” And with that Preston and his laser rifle were gone.

“What’s with the General bit?” Deacon asked, standing to bring his own bowl over to the sink.

“Oh yeah, that.” She gave the dishes a rinse in the water and set them aside to dry. She turned to Deacon. “I may now be the General of the Minutemen.”

Deacon just stared at her.

Grace rolled her eyes. “After we got you here and you were resting, Preston took me aside and told me how well I was doing, sending people to him to help. The place has come a long way since I last left here. And so he made me the new General.”

Deacon had to admit he was impressed.

“That’s quite the promotion.” he said, leaning against the counter.

“I hope it doesn’t interfere with my being in the Railroad.” Grace said, crossing her arms. “At least, if they take me.”

Now it was Deacon’s turn to roll his eyes. Even though she couldn’t see. “If they don’t take you in, I’ll eat my sunglasses.”

Grace smiled, and then uncrossed her arms. “Would you like a tour of the place?”

Deacon nodded, and soon she was giving him the grand tour of the settlement that was Sanctuary.

***

Grace looked over at Deacon as they made their way to visit the Railroad.

After showing him around Sanctuary earlier that day, he had insisted that they returned to Desdemona. He told her she would be getting awfully curious at the fact they hadn’t returned in nearly three days. It was supposed to be a pretty easy mission. Grace had told him that he was in no shape to travel, but he convinced her otherwise. One thing she realised about Deacon was that he could be very convincing. When he wanted to be.

She had been more than relieved when he had finally woke. She had been worried sick about him after Marcy fixed him up. Even though she was told she had nothing to worry about. The scariest part about the entire thing was waiting after she had shot up that flare. She had held him in her lap after trying to staunch the bleeding in his side. She hadn’t thought it was that deep, but there had been a lot of blood. She couldn’t remember ever being that scared before.

She tried not to think about it too much on their trip down south - it wasn’t her fault. But every time he grunted or winced in pain, she couldn’t help but feel bad. So she had stocked up on enough stimpacks and med-x to last them nearly a week.

They took their time on this trip, and it felt good travelling together. They talked a lot, about everything and nothing at the same time. It felt good just to talk.

The trip to the Glowing Sea was in the back of her mind the entire time, but she didn’t dare ask. She still wasn’t 100% ready, and with Deacon being injured she knew he would want nothing to do with it. Besides, they still didn’t know each other that well yet.

_Soon enough._

Night had just started to fall with barely any daylight left when they reached the Boston Common.

“Are you okay to travel the rest of the way by yourself?” Deacon asked, taking out his pistol. “I only ask because I should get to Dez first. She’s definitely expecting me and it would be odd for me to come through the Church entrance.”

_Makes sense enough._

“Of course.” Grace smiled. “I’ll see you soon.”

Deacon grinned, flashed a thumbs up, and soon they were both parting ways.

It didn’t take long for Grace to follow the Freedom Trail this time around. She had no enemies to deal with, aside from two bloatflies that she stumbled across. When she got to the Old North Church that same lantern was lit on the steps, and she made her way through the run down building, taking her time winding the dimly lit hallways underneath.

Surprisingly enough the giant stone door was still open, and stepping through she could see Deacon talking to Desdemona. He had changed into a clean white button down shirt and tan pants. And the sunglasses. Always the sunglasses.

Of course Grace was curious about the colour of the man’s eyes. Even though she had taken his glasses off when he had been laying in her spare bed, she hadn’t seen what colour they were. But she had to admit without the glasses shielding his face, she found herself staring. He was very handsome.

_I bet they’re blue._

“And the new girl patched me up, put me on her shoulder, and blasted her way through the rest of the complex.” Deacon said as she approached the two. “Synths everywhere.”

She watched Desdemona raise an eyebrow. Grace had to resist rolling her eyes.

 _Just a_ slight _over exaggeration there._

“Carrying you the whole time?” Desdemona asked.

Deacon smiled. “Amazing, right?”

“That’s one word for it.”

Desdemona turned to Grace. “Deacon told me you single-handedly secure Carrington’s prototype, disabled a minefield, and wiped out a hundred Gen One’s.” She paused, crossing her arms. “So is any of that true?”

Grace didn’t need to look at Deacon to know what he wanted her to say.

“Every word he said was true.” She replied with a smile. “And then some.”

“A full hundred.” Desdemona said with a raise of her eyebrow. “I can’t even imagine.”

“See? Just like I said, boss.” Deacon quipped.

Desdemona looked over at Deacon. “I was expecting Deacon to grab a full team, including Glory, to secure that prototype. But instead, just the two of you cleared out the entire Switchboard.”

“You’d be _insane_ not to sign her up, Dez.”

Desdemona thought for a moment. “Well, you’ve certainly made an impression on Deacon. He’s never spoken about,” She looked over at him. “Or _lied_ about, anyone so highly before.” Desdemona turned back to Grace and stuck out her hand. “Welcome to the Railroad, agent.”

Grace smiled, shaking the woman’s hand. “Glad to be aboard.”

“It seems we’re very lucky to have you.” Desdemona placed her hands on her hips. “So you’re in. Now we need to know what to call you. Secrecy keeps us alive. Code names are a part of that. So what’s yours?”

Grace had no idea, but she had to think of something fast. She recalled Preston saying she was good at fixing things. “Call me... ‘Fixer’” she finally replied.

“Fixer certainly seems an apt name.” Desdemona said. “Your first official order is to deliver Carrington his prototype, and see if he can use another pair of hands. But first, it’s time to meet the gang.”

She motioned for Grace to follow, and lead her behind the corner where she had disappeared into when Grace had first found the place. Deacon followed behind, and Grace saw it lead to a heavy looking wooden door.

“The location of our HQ is one of our most tightly guarded secrets.” Desdemona said as they approached the door. “So be careful coming in our out. You can never tell when you’re being watched.”

Desdemona opened it slowly, letting Grace through first. The three of them walked down a set of concrete steps, and soon they were in the Railroad HQ.

“This is it.” Said Desdemona as they entered the catacombs.

Grace couldn’t help but look around as they stood there. There were a few different people milling around in between crypts that were strewn about. Desks were lined with terminals, and she couldn’t help but be reminded of her office space she worked in when she had been a lawyer. They had been arranged in a similar way, although the stone coffins and ammo covered shelves were new. She also took notice of a shooting range. That she also had lacked.

“It may lack the amenities of the Switchboard.” Desdemona continued. “But it’s safe, and we’ve taken precautions to not be taken by surprise again. Things are chaotic right now, so there’s plenty for you to do.”

Desdemona walked to the centre of the room and cleared her throat. “Listen up everyone. This is Fixer. She did the Switchboard op with Deacon. She’s a full agent effective immediately. I’m counting on each of you to show her the ropes. Feel free to welcome her aboard. That is all.”

Deacon left Grace and she familiarised herself with HQ. She met the man in the newsboy cap, Drummer Boy, who didn’t seem too thrilled to be there. Glory – who she liked immediately –, a synth and proclaimed bad-ass. Tinker Tom, who tried to get her to take a serum to exterminate the "tiny bots in her food controlled by the Institute". She said no to that pretty quickly. She made her way around the room before finally finding Dr. Carrington.

“Ah, it’s our newest agent.” He said as she approached him.

“Desdemona told me to give you this.” She said, and dug through her pack to retrieve the prototype. She handed it to him, and his eyes lit up after taking it.

“An extraordinary feat to recover this.” He said, setting it down on the table in front of him. “But that’s hardly the point. Without a lick of training, and us hardly knowing anything about you, Dez had invited you to join HQ.”

Grace felt a little insulted.

_What the hell did this guy know?_

“It would’ve been nice if she had consulted with her second-in-command, but what’s done is done.”

Grace came to the conclusion that she wasn’t a fan of the doctor.

He let out a sigh. “Since you’re here now, we might as well put you to work.”

“What?” Grace scoffed. “You don’t think I can handle a dangerous job?” She didn’t care about making good impressions at the moment.

The doctor frowned. “The danger doesn’t concern me. Your work at the Switchboard proves you can deal with that. I just hope the mission doesn’t require knowledge about synths and our procedures. Something you’ve had scant opportunity to learn.”

Grace crossed her arms. “Cut to the chase.”

“One of our field agents, Old Man Stockton, needs help with a runaway synth, H2-22. So headquarters, as always, puts out the fires that others can’t be bothered to put out themselves.”

He didn’t care to elaborate, so Grace decided that was that. She walked through HQ until she found Deacon.

“Welcome to the family.” He said with a smile. “We’re a colourful and arguably insane bunch, but you’re stuck with us now.” He walked closer to her, crossing his arms. “Speaking of which, if you don’t mind a side-kick, let’s keep a good thing going and travel together some more.”

Here he was, saying these things again.

“Let’s go then.” She replied.

He grinned. “I’m _all_ ready to go.”


	11. The Rendezvous Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace meets another synth, and Deacon realizes a few things.

Deacon decided it would be best for the two of them to rest before heading out. They had, after all, spent a good majority of the day travelling. So the next morning it hadn’t taken long for Deacon and Grace to get things organised and head for the dead drop. Although it was a good learning experience for Grace, Deacon already knew their destination. Bunker Hill. It was always the first stop before meeting with Old Man Stockton to discuss the newest escaped synth. Bunker Hill was one of the few larger trading areas in the Commonwealth, but underneath resided the holding area for all of the synths the Railroad helped free.

It was a good gig, and Deacon loved helping people.

The pair walked along the river, before being confronted by a mirelurk. Grace took it out effortlessly with her rifle, and Deacon couldn’t help but find himself admiring her once again. They found the mailbox that hid the dead drop, and Grace slid the holotape in her PipBoy.

 _“Update,”_ Stockton’s voice crackled through the PipBoy. _“Observed unusual activity has ceased. Window is open for a heavy to make contact but they should act now. The package is still in my possession. It cannot remain here safely for much longer. Out.”_

Deacon gave a nod to the direction of Bunker Hill, and Grace followed by his side. It wasn’t long before the large tower came into view.

“Diamond City thinks it’s got a lock on trade in the Commonwealth, but watch out for Bunker Hill,” said Deacon as they got closer. “It has a lot of potential.”

Soon they were approaching the gates and he watched Grace’s expression change at the walled-up community. He had to admit that their security was a little too much, but if it helped them sleep at night, what the hell.

He saw Kessler standing at the entrance, wielding a shotgun. He really hoped he wouldn’t stop them today...

 “You there!” she yelled at Grace. “Caravan, or Raider?”

 _For Christ’s sake._ Deacon thought. _You know she’s with me._

"I’m here on my own.” Grace replied.

“Freelance, huh?” Kessler lowered her gun. “All right, come in, but no gunfire. Market’s open. You can do as much trading as you like.”

Deacon let Grace through first and she gave a smile.

_That smile’s going to be the death of me._

They walked into Bunker Hill, and Deacon noticed it wasn’t as busy today. Any of the times he’d been here, the place had been booming. Granted, it was still fairly early into the day. He liked Bunker Hill. He would often pose as a caravan worker just for shits and giggles when he was in between missions, and would often overhear many conversations. Some funny, some dreadful, but mostly people bickering over prices.

He motioned for Grace to lead the way as they walked into the marketplace. He saw Deb already setting up at her booth, and Doc Weathers appeared to be having a nap. He could just make out muffled snores as they approached Stockton, always dressed to the nines in his black suit and tie.

“Welcome, my friend,” the old man said. “Might I ask, do you have a Geiger counter?”

“Mine is in the shop.”

Deacon didn’t know why, but he loved it every time she said that.

Stockton squinted his eyes, looking Grace up and down. “You? I was expecting someone a bit more... armed.”

Deacon looked over at Grace and could see the anger flash across her eyes. One thing he’d learned about his partner was she wasn’t particularly fond of people misjudging her. He had been probably expecting Glory as well, considering she was usually the one to take on the recovery missions.

“You’re with our mutual friends, yes?” Stockton asked.

“That’s right.” Grace replied coldly.

“It’s always nice to make new friends.” Stockton commented. “You’ve just joined, haven’t you? All you need to know is this is the first stop for all our new... packages. So maintaining proper security here and preventing any unnecessary delays is crucial.”

Grace smiled. “A trader always has to move his merchandise... efficiently.”

“And we’re all about making good trade routes.” Deacon quipped.

Stockton tapped his finger on his nose. “Exactly. My current package has been in my possession far too long. I’m supposed to deliver the package to someplace nearby. But Raiders have complicated matters. So if you could –”

“Facilitate delivery.” Grace cut in. “I can do that.”

Stockton nodded. "It’s scheduled to be a night time delivery. So if you can clear out the undesirables before dawn, we can do this tonight. See you soon.” And with that, Stockton stood, and exited the market through a door out the back.

“Well that was fun.” said Deacon, and turned to face Grace. “What’s your call, boss?”

Grace wrinkled her nose. “ _Boss_? I’m _your_ partner.”

Deacon shrugged. “I call everyone boss.”

_Not exactly._

Grace gave him a look. “Well, it’s still too early to head there, but it would be nice just to get it over with.” She crossed her arms and her brows furrowed in thought. Deacon had to admit that it made her look adorable, and he had to resist the urge to wrap his arms around her.

_What the fuck, man?_

He couldn’t help but think back to when they were in Sanctuary, and she had been so elated after he’d finally came to.  She had felt so good curled up against him...

“Or,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “We could find a room to grab for the night? There might not be anything available later.”

“Sounds fantastic.” he replied.

“Do they have anything like that here?”

“Well, there’s a few shack rooms that Joe Savoldi and his son Tony rent out. They also have a bar there – I wouldn’t mind a drink myself.”

Grace gave him a look. “I suppose its five o’clock somewhere.”

Deacon didn’t really know what that meant, but he looped his arm through hers and led her to the Savoldi’s.

***

Grace liked Bunker Hill. Sure they seemed a little on edge with the giant wall around them, but during this day and age, security was a great thing to have. After her and Deacon managed to secure a small room for the following night, Deacon had spent the time giving her a little tour. It was around midday, the market now booming with settlers and caravan guards. It reminded her a lot of the farmers market her and Nate had visited on the weekends. But you had to be there ridiculously early if you wanted to get anything good, which most of the time they missed from one of them sleeping in.

She missed the simplicity of her previous life a lot.

A few hours later they finally decided it was a good time to head out. She secured her favourite rifle to her back while wielding _Deliverer_  as the two of them manoeuvred through the rundown city. Her senses were high as they took out each Raider they came across, thankfully not having to worry about more than one or two at a time. In some bizarre, sick way, Grace was actually starting to like this. Not necessarily the killing part, but just being out in the Commonwealth, actually making a difference. She also quite enjoyed Deacon’s company, his jokes and wise-ass comments making the whole situation a bit more endurable. She tended to find herself looking over at him more, when he was distracted, and not being able to resist studying his features. His sharp jaw, long nose, slightly hollowed cheeks that pretty much everyone in the Commonwealth shared. But one thing that had her going crazy were those damned sunglasses. Always betting with herself on what colour they could be.

_Maybe they’re as black at that silly wig he has._

Soon they approached an old church and had to take out a few Raiders that were camped inside. She helped Deacon drag out the bodies, discarding them in a pile, and she sat down in the middle of one of the pews.

“Now what?” she asked as Deacon wiped his hands on a blue handkerchief. He tucked it back in the front pocket of his jacket.

“Well,” he said, squinting up at the sun. “It’s still an hour or so before dawn. Stockton will be here after that. In the meantime, we just hang out.”

“I can do that.” she said, taking her pack off her back and stretching her back. “I’m starving.” Grace began digging through her pack and found her box of Fancy Lad Snack Cakes. These had always been her guilty pleasure back in the day, so discovering they were still hanging around she was elated.

Not exactly the best sign for their healthiness if they’d survived this long, but hell, it sated her craving.

She had found herself doing her own thing as they waited for Stockton to arrive. She had gone upstairs of the church to find old boxes of books and had amused herself by reading. It wasn’t anything special, some non-fiction Christian novel, but it occupied her. Deacon had found himself a Mr. Handy collectable kit, and he was busy trying to put it together. She found herself looking up at him every so often and each time made her smile. He was so concentrated he had his tongue stuck out just a little, and she found it adorable. And then all too suddenly the realisation hit.

_Did I have a crush on Deacon?_

She looked down at the page she was on, and discovered she’d been reading the same paragraph over and over. She glanced back up at him and his eyes met hers, that dashing smile flashing, causing her heart to flip.

“I think I’ve almost got it.” he said, before looking back down at the Mr. Handy figurine.  

_Uh oh._

“I’m going to go and stretch my legs.” Grace said quickly, setting down the book and dashed down the stairs. Deacon didn’t follow, so she took that as a good sign as she walked over and leaned against the wall near the entrance. She took a deep breath as she closed her eyes, her fingers immediately travelling to the wedding band on her hand.

Of course she could find people attractive. She was only human.

She looked down at the band on her finger, the gold glittering in the setting sun. Her husband was dead. She had to accept that. He wasn’t coming back.

“You okay, Fixer?” she heard Deacon ask, and she looked up to see him coming down the stairs.

_Fixer, right. Her code name._

“Oh, I’m fine.” she replied, dropping her hand to her side. “Might as well wait here.” She walked over to the same pew as earlier and sat down. “They could be here any time.”

He nodded and walked over, sitting closely next to her. She was suddenly very aware of his thigh next to hers.

She had her hands clasped together in her lap, and the next thing she knew, Deacon was grabbing the one wielding the ring in his, examining it. She took a breath, not daring to look over at him. She didn’t think she could handle it.

“Do you miss him?” she heard him ask quietly after a few moments. Her hand was still in his, and she could just faintly feel his thumb stroking hers.

“Every day.” She whispered.

She could feel Deacon looking at her. Even with his sunglasses she was nervous to look back. But she found herself mustering up the courage to look at him.

“Grace,” he started.

“Everything looks clear.” A voice came from behind them and Grace jumped, tearing her hand out of Deacon’s. They stood and turned to see Stockton walking inside the church, followed by a timid looking man. “This is H2-22. H2, here’s the person I talked to you about.”

Grace stepped forward and reached her hand out to the synth. “Nice to meet you, H2.”

He awkwardly took her hand, pumping it slowly. “Another person actually happy to meet me.” He dropped her hand. “This’ll take some getting used to.”

Stockton frowned. “Remember what I told you, H2. I’ll fire up the signal.”

Stockton walked over to a window ledge where a lantern was sitting, and started fiddling around it. Grace was all too aware of Deacon standing a few steps behind her.

“Mr. Stockton said I shouldn’t say anything...” H2 said quietly.

“And... there.” Stockton lit the lantern, and the church was now illuminated in a warm glow. He walked back over to the group. “Time for me to go.” He turned to face Grace, and leaned in closer to her. “Keep H2 safe. Someone will be here shortly.”

Stockton exited the church as the night fell, and the three of them stood there quietly.

She needed to distract herself.

“Hey, H2.” she said, walking towards the synth.

“From what I’ve been told, it’s probably safer if I don’t say anything.” he said, appearing not to know what to do with his hands. “I don’t want to put you in any more danger.”

Grace smiled. “I appreciate the thought.”

H2 nodded, but she could tell he wanted to say more. He looked around, and then finally settled on crossing his arms. “It’s just that, you guys are all... well, no one’s ever stuck their neck out for me. I wanted to thank you. The world is... overwhelming. But people like you make me feel better about coming here.”

“That’s why we do this.” she replied. “To give you a better life.”

She watched the synth smile for the first time since arriving. “You really... you really have no idea how much I appreciate all of this.”

She really hoped H2 would end up with a good life. He was so innocent.

Suddenly she heard a branch snap, and quickly grabbed _Deliverer_ from her holster and aimed it at the noise outside.

“Don’t shoot!” Another man’s voice came as he appeared from the shadows with his hands raised. “Fixer, right?” he asked, slowly walking forward. “And my man, Deacon.” She lowered her gun, and the man lowered his hands. “Still with the same, old face? What? It’s been three whole months. You’re getting slow.”

She turned to finally look at Deacon and he just shrugged his shoulders. “I keep meaning to go to the face doctor, but who has the time, right?”

“I heard about you,” the man said, and she turned back to face him. “Walked the Freedom Trail, cleared out Switchboard. Glad you joined the team.”

Obviously the man was with the Railroad, but with everything Deacon had taught her so far, you couldn’t trust anyone.

“Do you have a Geiger counter?” she asked.

The man smiled. “Right you are.”

He replied with the countersign, and soon the group was discussing the new plan for getting H2 out of here. She learned the man’s name was High-Rise, and he told them there were more Raiders along the way. Of course she agreed to help him, and soon the four of them made their way to Ticonderoga. They were met with a lot more Raiders than earlier, but there were now the three of them as opposed to two, and High-Rise was skilled with his own pistol. It wasn’t long before the Raiders were dealt with, and the group were standing in front of the Railroad base.

“All in a night’s work for you agent types, huh?” asked High-Rise.

“Just part of the service.” Grace replied.

High-Rise chuckled. “I think I’m going to like you even more than Glory. If you ever need grub, bullets, or just a power nap, take the elevator up to Ticon. My house is yours.”

High-Rise led H2 towards the elevator inside the building. “And Deacon,” he said, saying something to H2 before heading back to Grace and Deacon. “Try not to give the Rookie too much shit.” He turned to look at Grace. “Deacon may be a terrible liar, but it always pays to have him on your side. Later.” He ran back over to H2, and soon the two disappeared into the elevator.

Grace and Deacon made their way back to Bunker Hill, the sky now littered with stars. It seemed rare these days to actually see the sky at night, often covered with radiated clouds. The pair was silent, and Grace realised this had been the quietest Deacon had ever been around her. He almost always had something to say.

_Everything will be back to normal tomorrow._

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that things had changed, for the better or worse she wasn’t quite sure.


	12. The Recall Code

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon tells some lies, and Grace learns of the Brotherhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why it took me so long to update this. It took me way too long to get through this chapter, but I'm so glad I plugged through. A little dash of writers block is not fun. Thanks to all who are patient and sticking around.

 

Deacon realised all of three things after waking up.

One, the first “official” mission for Grace had been immensely successful. They got H2-22 to High-Rise in one piece with only having to deal with a few Raiders. Nothing too insane. Two, he had actually slept through the entire night with no interruptions. It had been weeks since his last solid sleep, more often than not sleeping with one eye open or just waking up every two hours or so. And three...

Grace almost had her entire body wrapped around his.

The small room they had rented for the evening only had one bed, which they _just_ fit together on. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either. Deacon remembered Grace joking about how if it cooled off in the night, they’d have no issue staying warm.

Looking down at her, Deacon didn’t want to move an inch. Her head was against his chest, with her arm draped across his waist. He resisted the urge to move a piece of her bangs away from her eyes, for fear of waking her. He knew that she was still asleep, her chest moving up and down against him in a steady rhythm. His arm was pinned underneath her, but he didn’t want to move. He couldn’t remember the last time he had shared a bed with another person like this.

And he had to admit that he was enjoying it a little more than he should.

All of a sudden he felt her start to stir and his heart froze. He closed his eyes, feinting sleep, but all she did was roll over onto her other side, facing away from him. He watched her sigh in satisfaction, but he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment.

Gingerly he slid out of the small bed, straightening his sunglasses on his face. It was still fairly early in the morning as he made his way down the ladder outside of the rooms. Neither Joe nor Tony were awake yet, the bar empty.

Deacon found himself wandering aimlessly around Bunker Hill. He nodded to a few caravan guards just heading out for the day, recognising Cricket. He had never been particularly fond of her, considering she used most of the chems she housed, than sold, but he knew she meant well.

He ended up at the top of the large obelisk that resided outside the market place. It was a long climb, but worth it in the end for the view alone. He always found himself climbing those stairs anytime he was in Bunker Hill. It was one of his favourite views.

Someone had left a copy of _Live and Love_ on the small table that sat there, beside a chair that some poor sap had dragged up. Deacon considered snagging it, but decided against it. As much as he loved collecting the intact magazines he came across in the Commonwealth, he knew someone would be missing this.

He finally let himself think about Grace.

They’d had somewhat of a moment at that church, waiting for Stockton and H2-22. He remembered often glancing at her through his sunglasses and had seen her looking at him. She couldn’t tell, glasses and all, but he knew. He had done his own share of glancing as well. And who wouldn’t? Grace was absolutely unlike anything the Commonwealth had ever seen. She was something that was out of a book. Every day she surprised him with new things that she was capable of. And it made him fall harder and harder for her.

And that absolutely terrified him.

It had been about an hour of him pondering the pros and cons of why he should or shouldn’t pursue Grace, before he finally decided to head back to the hotel. He still hadn’t come to a decision.

He was about halfway down the spiral staircase when he practically bumped into her.

 “Hey!” she smiled. “Just the man I was looking for.”

Deacon couldn’t get enough of her smile.

“You know me, gotta get my cardio in for the day.”

Deacon followed behind her as they made their way down the stairs. “So what’s the plan of attack?” she asked after they reached the bottom.

“Well, it’ll be a short walk back to HQ to report back to Dez,” Deacon replied, rounding the corner and heading back towards the small hotel. “If she doesn’t have anything else for us, then we can party till the brahmin’s come home.”

He watched her start to laugh and it was one of the few magical things left in the Commonwealth.

He loved it.

_It is now my civic duty to make this woman laugh._

As they approached the building, Deacon noticed both Tony and Joe were up, Joe cleaning glasses and already sliding a bottle of whiskey to a settler.

“I’m half tempted to join the Railroad with all this shit.” said Tony, wiping down his counter. “I don’t know - people gotta do something, Dad.”

Joe scoffed. “When did you start to care about synths?”

“It’s not that.” Tony replied. “The Railroad is the only one standing up to the Institute. So Gary’s wife... kidnapped. That settlement Lucas Miler was talking about... wiped out.”

Grace glanced over at Deacon before ducking behind him to head up to the room to grab their things, but was unsuccessful at evading Joe.

“Hey, you.” he said to her, and she stopped. “Talk some sense into my numbskull son. Getting involved with the Railroad is just trouble.”

Deacon watched Grace’s eyes flick to him and back to Joe. “It’s always good to help people.”

“I have no problem helping people.” Joe replied, setting down a glass and wiping out a second. “Synths, though...”

“All I do here is help crusty old caravan hands, no offence, go blind of rotgut.” Tony quipped, setting down his cloth and turned to face his father. “At least the Railroad’s fighting the Institute. And why not save synths?”

Deacon really didn’t feel like getting mixed up into a debate today.

“Might as well go off and join the “Deathclaw Preservation Society.”

“Trying to save synths sounds noble to me.” said Grace.

“I’m not alone in this, Dad.” said Tony.

Deacon knew there would be no way Tony could change Joe’s mind.

“Enough,” Joe spat. “We got customers.”

Grace and Deacon chose that moment to quickly slink away and grab their packs from their rented room.

“Let’s get out of here.” Deacon said, and soon they were on the road back to HQ

***

Grace couldn’t stop Deacon from entering her mind. It was incredibly difficult to think of anything else with him walking beside her after leaving Bunker Hill. Not that she _didn’t_ want to think about him. That was the last thing she wanted to do. It was just strange when he was with her.

She still didn’t know what to think of this newfound realisation. 

_I like Deacon._

_Deacon, of all people._

She’d finally admitted it herself last night when they had been settled down in the _single_ bed. Accompanied by the fact she was all too aware of his body next to hers. How much warmth he radiated. She remembered Nate being warm, but not as warm as Deacon.

_Enough. Get your shit together, Grace._

Before long they were just outside of the other Railroad entrance. A little easier to get inside than winding through the hallways beneath the church. They made their way through and were soon met with the familiar faces of the Railroad. Glory gave a nod to Grace as they walked past and Grace responded with a small smile. Desdemona was busy talking with Carrington so her and Deacon made their way to a terminal, and Deacon told her about filling in reports.

“They aren’t _totally_ necessary,” he started, punching in some things. “But Dez gets a little cranky when we don’t give her one.”

Grace smiled. “Noted.”

Just then she heard Desdemona call everyone to attention. They both turned to look as the others slowly started to gather around.

“There’s been panic about the new thing floating in the sky.”

Grace remembered seeing the large blimp-like object making its way through the Commonwealth when she had been standing on the roof of Fort Hagen. She had been too caught up in emotions at the time to really make much of it. Nick had mentioned something about it, but she entirely forgot.

“I thought it was one of Tinker Tom’s aliens.” Glory chirped, crossing her arms.

“Hey, aliens are real!” Tom countered.

“Enough!” Dez shouted. “The blimp is called The Prydwyn and it's operated by the Brotherhood of Steel. The B.O.S. are a formidable highly advanced order. And they’ve come here to destroy synths.”

There was a collective amount of murmurs throughout the HQ.

“Shit.” Grace could hear Glory mutter under her breath.

Dez only nodded. “Spread the word. The Brotherhood are our enemies. There’s no possibility of peace. Tinker Tom will be spearheading a fail-safe plan to deal with this Brotherhood, code name: Red Glare. But for now, we monitor them and keep them clear of our operations. The focus remains on the Institute.”

The entire room was silent as looks were shared between the agents.

The Brotherhood sounded terrifying, but Grace had to admit she was awfully curious.

“You’ve all got jobs to do.” Dez continued with a glare. “Do them.”

Everyone scattered about, returning to their duties, and Grace returned her attention to Deacon.

“The Brotherhood sounds like the real deal.” She said, more to herself than him.

“Ah, the Brotherhood,” Deacon commented. “Elitism, power armour, xenophobia, and racial purging. What’s not to like?”

Grace frowned. As much as the sound of these guys was unnerving, her ears perked up at the sound of power armour. That was something that would help a great deal to wade through the Glowing Sea with.

Soon both of their reports were filled, and after checking in with Desdemona, they were informed she had no mission for them. So Grace decided that she just wanted to simply rest.

She found a mattress off to the side, a little ways away from the rest of the group. She sat down, and dug through her pack, finding the novel she’d starting reading at the church. Within moments of starting that same chapter again, she looked up to find Deacon standing over her.

“We’ve been travelling for a spell.” He said simply, his arms loose at his sides. “I was hoping to have some words with you.”

“I’m listening.” She said quietly.

Deacon pulled at a chair that was nearby, and sat down. “I’m used to flying solo. But, I gotta admit, working with you makes me think I’ve been missing out.”

Grace felt her chest tighten.

_Where was this heading?_

“Having someone watching your back... it’s refreshing. Especially since you never know when the Institute is watching.”

Grace found this hard to believe. “You’ve never had a partner?”

Deacon nodded. “Not for a long time. Besides, partnering up in the Railroad can leave you vulnerable. One more person who can finger you to the Institute.”

Grace looked down at her book in her lap.

_Did he really feel that way?_

“Some people at HQ are jealous. You took the Big Nap and everyone you knew is long gone.”

That wasn’t what she was expecting to hear. Her hands tightened into fists around the book. She looked up at him, and he held up his hands.

“Now, here me out on the silver lining. If a human in the Railroad slips up, then they expose friends and loved ones to danger. You’re safe from that.”

In a sick, twisted way... it was true. As much as she didn’t want to believe it.

“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” She said quietly.

Deacon’s face remained expressionless, and at that moment she was glad his stare was shielded by those glasses. “When the Switchboard went sideways, some people lost family as well as comrades. That’s got to be tough.” He leaned back from resting his elbows on his knees, and crossed his arms across his chest. “It doesn’t matter much to me. I’m a synth. At least, that’s what they tell me.”

_I’m a synth._

Grace had no idea what to say.

He continued. “So I really don’t have anything to lose. For Glory, and me, and the others, it’s easier to dedicate ourselves to the cause.”

He had to be joking. He couldn’t be serious about that, just nonchalantly bringing it up now after what they’ve been through already.

“You expect me to believe that?” she asked.

“Why not? I was one of the first to get the good old cranium reboot and it was a learning experience for everyone. Makes me quirky and fun that way.” He started digging for something in the inside of his jacket pocket. “Since we’re travelling together I want you to take this.” He handed her a small piece of folded paper. She took it hesitantly. “It’s my recall code. If you ever need to know something about the Institute, read it to me.”

She looked at the piece of paper and had to resist the urge to crumple it in her hand.

“If you expect me to believe you, I want proof.”

Deacon’s entire persona changed, from the serious “Synth” back to, well... Deacon. He held up his hands in defence. “Alright, you got me.”

Grace almost punched him right there.

“No fooling you, huh? Don’t take it personally. I lie to everyone.” Grace couldn’t help but take it personally. It stung just a little. “Maybe I’m just another human that has people back home he wants to protect. Then again...” he trailed off. “Maybe not.” He said in a robot voice, and started laughing. This time Grace did punch him, in the shin, and it hurt her hand.

But she couldn’t resist a smile.

_Fucking bastard._

“Well, you’re good in my book. Whatever, or whoever you are.”

His smile was there, but it faltered for just a moment. “I want...” he started, trailing off, than starting again. “If you believe anything, believe this. I’m in your corner. Always have been.” He motioned down to the paper in her hand. “That code I gave you is a hard truth. You can’t trust everyone. Even if someone sounds sincere, they could be a synth replacement working for the Institute. The bitch of the problem, is recognising the ninety percent of the time someone’s on the up and up, and the ten percent of the time you’re being played.”

Deacon stood up from the chair, but not before giving Grace a small punch on the shoulder. She watched him return the chair to where he found it, and walked back over to where Glory and Drummer Boy were discussing something.

Grace looked down at the paper, and was at a loss for words.

She really didn’t know Deacon at all.

Curious, she unfolded the paper he’d given her, and read the words silently.

_You can’t trust everyone._


	13. The Big Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg this took me so long to write. I had it going in one direction, and had that written out, but then later decided I didn't want to do that and spent a few days mentally figuring out where I wanted it. I am happy with the version I decided on. Also it is almost 1 in the morning where I am right now, as I edit this and publish it because I couldn't wait to finish it.
> 
> Also thank you so much to everyone leaving kudos and bookmarks and comments. You guys are amazing.

Nearly three weeks had passed with Deacon and Grace doing odd missions for the Railroad. Carrington had assigned them a few involving looking into some safe houses. Most of which were taken over by raiders. P.A.M had them looking for numerous DIA caches, and even Tom was keeping them busy.  

Ever since that night Deacon had told Grace about not being able to trust everyone, she had been distant. Not to the point where they weren’t talking, they still were, but she didn’t smile as much when he made his wise-ass comments.  

 _Probably just getting tired of your mug._  

He knew that telling her about him “being a synth” wasn’t exactly something she would appreciate, but he wanted to teach her a lesson. Show her that you can’t trust everyone, not even the people you’re close with. He knew that from his own experience, and although it was a harsh way to tell someone, he knew it got the point across. 

She had also been quieter than usual, often times catching her deep in thought about something.  

" _Don’t tell me you’re plotting how to kill Drummer Boy with a spoon and an apple again?”_ He’d asked her the third time he caught her zoning out, and she had just given him a glare.  

Something was off between the two of them, and if that had something to do with his lie then, well... it wasn’t something he could control. 

That was just who he was. 

They had ended up back at Sanctuary at the beginning of the third week, Preston asking for yet another settlement in need. Deacon didn’t mind joining Grace on these – he liked helping people probably as much as her. But Preston was really starting to get on his nerves. He recalled informing Preston to take his laser rifle and “stick it where the sun don’t shine”. Grace had found this hilarious, of course. Deacon had almost forgotten what her laugh sounded like.  

This settlement, a farm owned by a family, had them looking for a locket. One of their daughters had been kidnapped and killed by Raiders, stealing it in the process. Grace had been holding back tears while she told them she'd help. 

And now here they were, Grace clunking beside Deacon in a suit of power armour she'd found just outside of the satellite station. Why she needed another one, Deacon had no idea. He wasn’t exactly fond of prohibiting ones movements in some rusted tin can.  

T _o each their own, I guess._  

The night was just starting to fall as the pair left the Abernathy's and headed back to Sanctuary. As they neared the entrance he could make out a Minuteman standing guard. He raised his rifle as the two got closer, but Grace just held up a hand.  

“It’s just me, George.” 

The man,  _George,_ immediately lowered his gun and stood to the side. “General.” 

 _Of course she knew the guy._  

Grace gave a little wave, thought not so little with the giant power armour hand, and the two made their way to Grace’s house.  

While she took her suit to her power station, Deacon headed inside. He’d been here enough times by now that it wasn’t considered rude. It wasn’t his own place, obviously, but she had given him the second bedroom for the time being. The one that he had woken up in. It was still plain and lacking personality, but it was nice to have a place to call his own here.   

Somewhere that wasn’t just a patio chair and a tarp. 

Deacon set his pack on his bed and as much as he wanted to lay down, was starving as well as exhausted. He headed out into the kitchen to find Grace already starting to whip up something.   

“You, rest.” She said, and he obliged, sitting down on the couch, knowing well enough she’d swat him away if he tried to help at all. 

He couldn’t help but watch her as she shuffled around, having retrieved a pail of water and pouring some into a pot. She must be making soup. 

Deacon smiled, as he realised she was making his favourite. 

 _Buttering me up for something, I bet._  

It wasn’t long before the two sat in silence as they sipped at the vegetable soup. Simple, but delicious and warming, as he noted the air around them felt surprisingly cool.  

 _Could it be winter already?_  

Deacon had lost track of the seasons a long time ago. Every day felt the same.  

“Deacon?” he heard Grace ask, and he almost didn’t hear her he was so lost in thought. 

“Yeah, boss?” He looked up at her, and she was looking down at her bowl. Her soup was practically untouched. She paused for a moment before looking up at him. 

“Can I tell you something?” 

“Of course. Lay it on me.” 

She took a deep breath before answering. 

“You know I’m looking for my son... Shaun?” Her voice barely a whisper on the poor kid’s name. 

Deacon nodded. 

“Well, a while ago I discovered that Kellogg had been the one to take him, and that he was now in the Institute.” 

Just as heartbreaking to hear for the second time. 

“Well, I had gone to Goodneighbor, to the Memory Den, and found out how the people in the Institute get in and out...” she looked around, noting that literally nobody was around them as the few settlers were already fast asleep. Even Preston would be done his snooping for the day. And the fact they were in the privacy of her own home. She leaned in closer, and whispered. “Teleportation.” 

 _No fucking way._  

“Holy shit.” Deacon said, almost in disbelief. The Railroad had been trying to figure out for years how the Institute bastards managed to do that. 

Grace nodded. “There’s a scientist who ran from the Institute and is in hiding. His name is Brian Virgil. If anybody knows about the teleportation, it’ll be him.” 

Deacon grinned. “So where is this guy?” 

Grace frowned. “That’s the problem I’ve been having. He’s in the Glowing Sea.” 

Deacon let out a low whistle.  

“Which is why I’m telling you all of this now. I’ve been trying to figure out how to get there-.” 

 _Was this what she had been lost in thought over this entire time?_  

“Whoa, whoa, time out, boss.” Deacon set down the bowl onto the small table. “Are you  _trying_ to become a fried egg? ‘Cause that’s how you become a fried egg.” 

Deacon watched Grace’s face light up. “Which is why I needed power armour. I had the one here already, but I knew I needed two – which I found today!” She was grinning, but her face faltered for just a moment.  

“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like what you’re about to say?” he asked. 

“You probably won’t but...” she leaned in closer to Deacon and lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “Will you come with me? I know it’s probably dangerous as hell, and a suicide mission, but I want you to come with me.” 

 _This woman, I swear to Christ._  

Deacon took a long look at her. “You’re kidding me, right?” 

“You don’t have to come. I’ll do it on my own if I have to. But please, Deacon...” she reached over placing a hand on his own. “I really need your help finding my son. And I know I’m asking for a lot, but there isn’t anyone else I’d rather have by my side. We’re partners. Do you trust me?”

Of course he trusted her. She had survived this long being out in a world she knew nothing about. She was capable of almost anything he’d seen her try. She was on a mission to save her son, and nothing would stop her. She’d saved his life, and he had saved hers. He would do anything for her.  

Even if that meant having to wear one of those god-awful suits. 

“Yes,” he sighed. “I trust you.” 

The look on her face was the most priceless thing he had ever seen. It lit up with so much happiness he didn’t know what to do. Thank God he had his sunglasses to hide behind.

“Thank you so much, Deacon.” She said, wrapping her arms around him.  

 _Here we go again._  

“I’ll owe you like, a million favours after this.” She said into his neck. 

“If we’re not eaten by a deathclaw, or die of rad poisoning, I’ll take your word for it.”

Grace released him and inched back over to her side of the couch.  

“So when do you want to do this?” he asked. 

She thought for a moment, but somehow he already knew the answer.

 “I have everything we need already, so… does tomorrow fit in your schedule?” 

 _This woman is going to be the death of me._  

 

*** 

 

Grace could hardly believe that Deacon had actually agreed to join her in the Glowing Sea. And she could hardly believe she was one step closer to finding her son. She knew that venturing out there was going to be difficult, but she knew she had to do it. She had lain awake, her mind racing at the constant thought of going into the radiated wasteland. Eventually sleep had found her, though she had no idea how.  

The two of them had spent the next morning packing. Over the past few weeks she had been collecting as many stimpacks, bottles of rad-x and radaway as she could find. It hadn’t been easy, but she didn’t want to risk running out of anything. She’d also gone through the trouble of fixing up an old laser rifle she had found. She wanted to be prepared. Deacon had been cracking jokes the entire time, of course, of all things talking about his funeral and already making arrangements for who he wants there.  

 _Glory and Dez, definitely, but maybe we can just not bring Drummer Boy. He likes to make fun of me behind my back at HQ.”_  

" _Deacon,” she had replied. “You make fun of everyone back at HQ.”_  

 _“Yeah but at least they know I’m_ _joking. I think he actually hates_ _me.”_  

She was starting to appreciate his banter again.  It had taken her a while to get past the fact that he’d lied to her face, and accepted that he did that to everyone.   

 _“Don’t take it personal.”_   he had said, and yet that was exactly what she had done.

This was a different world, and if lying was his vice she couldn’t really blame him.  

It was slow going as they made their way down south, the power armour not exactly being the best for long distance travel. But they needed the suits if they wanted to survive. Grace had gotten used to the extra weight fairly quickly, after having used hers the first day she had gotten out of the vault. She couldn't believe that it had been months since that first happened. And just look at her now. Deacon complained, constantly wishing they could just use the teleportation the Institute used to get them to the Glowing Sea and back. She welcomed the banter, as it helped her keep her mind off of things. They had to deal with a few Raiders and ferals along the way, but with their power armour it saved them a lot of bullets. But with that, they attracted a fair amount of wildlife, having to fend off mongrels and yao guai’s on more than one occasion.  

By the time they reached the edge of the Glowing Sea they were both absolutely exhausted. The night was starting to fall and Grace really did not want to trek through the rad infested area tired.

“You want to call it a day?” she asked as Deacon caught up to her. You would have had no idea it was him in the power armour, but she knew.  

“As long as I can get out of this thing before I suffocate to death, I am more than happy to.” He replied gruffly.  

“There was a park with a shed of sorts a ways back.” She said, turning to face him. “We could camp there for the night. I don’t want to take on the Sea with the day almost over.” 

“No worries, boss.”

They both retreated and made their way back towards the small park. Grace couldn’t actually remember if she had been here before, as none of it had a sense of familiarity as most of the places around here had. They approached the area, a small pond in the centre and a miraculously still standing stage, sandwiched between two buildings. A few ferals started to run towards them, but they took them out quickly.  Grace was starting to get used to their quickness and found them more annoying than anything.

 “That first building looks promising.” Said Deacon after shooting the last feral in between the eyes. Grace nodded and they started walking around the pond when they heard a very loud growl.

 Grace’s heart froze in her chest as her and Deacon stopped and looked at each other. 

 _Only one thing makes a noise like that._  

Before Grace could even begin to think of a plan, a deathclaw lumbered around the corner of one of the buildings.

_Fuck me._

“Deacon! In the cabin !” she yelled, and the two sprinted for the other building as the deathclaw reared its head, letting out an ear splitting scream. Deacon popped a couple of shots at the beast as they ran inside the cabin. Four protectrons sat untouched in each corner and Grace noticed a terminal. 

“Please tell me you have an idea” Deacon groaned, firing at the deathclaw as it tried to swipe at them through the door. 

“Give me a second!” she yelled back and started to work at unlocking the terminal.  She attempted code after code, heart threatening to burst out of her chest as Deacon backed into her, continuously firing at the beast. It simply roared, and debris flew at them.

“Come on, Grace, hurry.”

“Almost there!” 

After what seemed like forever she finally unlocked the terminal.  

 _Please let this fucking work._  

All four of the protectrons suddenly whirred to life. and Grace breathed a sigh of relief. Almost instantly all four began shooting at the deathclaw, making their way out the door and taking the beast head on. Grace and Deacon watched as the deathclaw swiped at each one, but Deacon had done enough damage that the machines were actually killing it.  

Finally, after one protectron remained, it delivered a final swipe of its spinning blade that sent the deathclaw crashing to the ground. 

Blood and sparking circuits were littered everywhere. 

_Holy fucking shit._

“You can say that again.” Deacon replied, and Grace didn’t even care that she had said that out loud.  

After a moment, they managed to contain themselves, and exited their power armour to the left of the cabin. Grace couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so sore as the two of them each rolled out a sleeping bag. There wasn’t a terrible amount of room in the small cabin as the two lay side by side. Their shoulders touched but Grace didn’t mind at all.  

By the time they had finished eating and settled down, night had fallen and Grace could hear the remaining protection making its rounds around the park. “After this is all said and done, I think I need a vacation.” She said, looking up at the ceiling.   

“I think I need to retire.” Deacon replied.

Grace laughed and closed her eyes.

It was silent for a brief period, and all Grace could hear was the steady rhythm of Deacon’s breathing. She couldn’t help but think of him right beside her as she tried to sleep after a jarring day. She couldn’t think of a more amazing person to be doing this with her, risking their lives just to go after some scientist who she didn’t even know for certain was there. They had literally almost died today, yet here he was. 

She was convinced that he had fallen asleep, until he cleared his throat.

“We’ve been making the rounds, doing the job.” He started. “It’s time you learn the Big Secret.”

Grace couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

_Here we go._

“Everyone thinks that Desdemona is the big boss. She calls the ops, gives the rah-rah speeches. But it’s just an act. She does what I tell her to, because the Railroad’s my show. It’s been that way since I founded it.”

“ _You?_ ” she scoffed, amusing him. “ _You_ founded the Railroad?”

“Sure.” He replied, and it was hard to tell his expression in the dark. “Me and Johnny D and Watts. Hell, that was over, sixty, seventy years ago? After a while you lose count.”

Grace found it hard to believe that it had been that long ago. Deacon did not look that old. Then again... she was over 200 years. Technically.

“I tell everyone I get the occasional face change to stay anonymous. Truth is, it takes a lot of work to keep this mug handsome.”

She’d almost forgotten that piece of information. In retrospect, he could in fact be that old. But who knew with Deacon. Regardless, she let him ramble, feeling herself slowly starting to drift at just the sound of his voice. She really liked his voice.

“We’ve come a long way since the beginning. We’ve done a lot of good. Saved a lot of synths. But we’re about more than that. We’re the last and only line of defence between the Institute and the Commonwealth. Hell, maybe even the world.”

“You’ve lied to me at least once.” Grace said softly. “This is just more of the same.”

She heard Deacon scoff. “Yeah, you got me.”

_Knew it._

“But you’re going to hear the same sort of lies elsewhere.” He continued. “There’re other organisations out there. And, in time, I’m sure they’re gonna spoon-feed you their own patented form of bullshit.” She watched him turn to face her, and she stared in what she thought was the direction of his face. “Ignore the verbiage and look at what they’re doing. What they’re asking you to do. What sort of world they’d have you build and how they’re going to pay for it.”

This life lesson was almost too deep for late night banter. As much as Grace was on the fence about the blatant lying, she saw the point he was getting across.

“So,” she said after a short breather, after Deacon had positioned onto his back again. “What do you think of the other groups out there?”

Deacon cleared his throat. “Love the job you’re doing with the Minuteman. Historically, they’ve been little better than policemen, though. The Brotherhood... well, I met them on an op in Capitol Wasteland a few years back. But now with Elder Maxson...” he trailed off. “Let’s just say, not a fan.”

Grace smiled, and closed her eyes again.

“And the Institute, well, do I really need to answer that? But what I think doesn’t matter. The real question is: what do you think? And, at the end of the day you’ll need to make a choice. Make it the right one.”

What did she think?

She didn’t want to have to think about that just yet.


	14. The Glowing Sea

Deacon was surprised he’d gotten any sleep at all. Having to deal with that deathclaw was not something he’d been expecting on the way to the Glowing Sea. But that was the Commonwealth for you. It always threw shit at you when you’d least anticipate it. He was thankful for Grace’s knowledge in terminals for being able to get those protectrons up and running. If she hadn’t of been successful in that, they definitely wouldn’t be here.

After waking, he realised that Grace’s bedroll was empty. Frantic he sat up and looked around, jumping to his feet and practically tripping while walking down the stairs out of the cabin. But then he saw her. She was sitting along the edge of the small pond, fiddling with her PipBoy.  He breathed a sigh of relief at the fact she hadn’t totally abandoned him. He started walking towards her when he heard a faint voice coming from her direction.

_"_ _Hi honey, listen. I don’t think_ _Shaun and I need to tell you_ _how great of a mother you are. But we’re going to anyway.”_

Deacon realised that he should not be listening to this. He had no idea what it was, but did at the same time. He didn’t recognise the voice, but if he had learned anything about Grace, he knew this was the voice of her husband.  

He slowly backed away, back to the cabin, and pressed himself against the wall. He closed his eyes trying not to listen. But he couldn’t help it.

 _"Y_ _ou_ _are kind, and loving, and funny, that’s right, and patient. So patient, patience of a saint as your mother would say.”_  

Deacon sighed. Grace was 100% all those things. And then some. 

 _“Look, with Shaun and us all being home together it’s been an amazing year, but even so_ _I know our best days are yet to come. There will be changes sure, things we’ll need to adjust to._ _Ill rejoin the civilian workforce,_ _you’ll_ _shake the dust off your law degree.”_  

Deacon heard Grace sniff, and he cursed himself for snooping. 

 _"But everything we do no matter how hard, we do it for our_ _family.”_  

Deacon chose that moment to let out an exaggerated yawn, stretching his arms as he walked back out of the cabin. He couldn’t take it anymore and had to indicate somehow that he was there. Sure enough, Grace looked over her shoulder and the static recording ended with a click.

“Morning, boss.” said Deacon as he made his way back towards her. She wiped a hand under her eyes, getting up onto her feet. 

“Hey, Dee.” she said quietly. “Have a good sleep?”

_Dee? That was new._

Deacon decided he liked it.

“Well, I’m in one piece so can’t complain.”

Grace smiled, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Time to get this show on the road, I suppose.” she said quietly.

Deacon and Grace took their time gathering their belongings together, not either of them really wanting to make this trip. They entered their power armour, the mechanical sounds echoing throughout the small woods. They walked past the lone protectron, still beeping away as it made its rounds. 

Before long they approached the edge of the Glowing Sea for the second time. 

Deacon looked over at Grace, his rifle locked and loaded in his hands. “Ready when you are, boss.” 

She gave a nod, and the two walked side by side into the most dangerous part of the Commonwealth. 

~

Time didn’t really exist in the Glowing Sea, Deacon realised as they made their way further and further into the radiation. He had no idea how long they had been in there, the only thing constant being the ticking of the built in Geiger counter in Grace’s PipBoy. For once in his life he was glad to be in power armour, as the radiation whipped around them like wind. So far they only had to deal with a few ferals, and one radscorpion, but Deacon feared the worst. So he and Grace kept close, but he kept his rifle closer.  

He had never been in the Glowing Sea, but had heard enough stories. And all of them hadn’t done justice. The place was, well... a Wasteland. Hardly anything stood, aside from a few structures still cemented into the ground. A piece of highway here, a chunk of airplane there.  It was unlike anything he’d seen wandering the Commonwealth or Capitol Wasteland. He wasn’t enjoying it one bit, but he was here for Grace, and he knew she didn’t want to be here either. 

Neither of them said much as they manoeuvred their way around pits and hills. He was too terrified at the whole ordeal, frankly, but he wouldn’t admit that.  

Occasionally he tried to crack a joke, but had given up when no reaction was made.

And he was okay with that.  

Grace pointed towards a steep incline in the mountain and Deacon nodded. He had no idea where they were going, so he let her call the shots. It was tough walking uphill in these suits, but Deacon grinned and bared it.  

Going back down was going to be the real fun part.  

When they got to the top Deacon was in awe. Down at the bottom was a giant crater. And both he and Grace knew that this was the spot where the bomb had hit over 200 years ago. It was surreal. And surrounding the crater was a community, of none other than the Children of Atom.  

He’d come across some of these crazies out in the Commonwealth, and they’d never taken too kindly to him. So he was cautious as they made their way down the hill into the most radiated spot a person could be. 

He wished that he could see Grace’s expression as they wandered through the small village. People were on their knees praying, and Deacon could hear murmurs all around him. 

“The world will see Atoms glory again.” said one man as they passed him. They continued through, Grace’s Geiger counter going off like crazy. 

“May Atom bless you with his glow.” said a woman as they clunked past her.

Deacon was starting to feel just a tad uncomfortable.  

_Someone please get me out of_ _this hole. Literally._

“Stop right there, stranger.” came a voice, and both Deacon and Grace stopped. They looked up to see a woman coming down a set of stairs from a hut. “You approach Atom’s Holy Ground. Why? State your purpose, or be divided in his sight.”

Deacon looked over at Grace.

He wasn’t particularly fond of getting divided at any point today.

“I’m here because I need your help.” Grace answered.

The woman cooked her head to the side slightly. “Do you seek division? Have you come to merge with Atom, to be split in his infinite glory? Or do you seek to tear down his followers?” 

“I’m looking for someone named Virgil.” 

“Virgil?” the woman quipped. “Yes… we know this Virgil. What do you want with him?” 

Deacon could tell Grace was starting to get frustrated. “I just need some information from him.” 

The woman eyed the two of them for a moment. “I see.” she replied. 

She pointed them in the direction of Virgil, somewhere southwest living in a cave.

“Great.” Deacon said once they were out of earshot of the woman. “’Cause there _aren’t_ enough caves around here.”

“You’re not helping.” Grace said, and the two set off to find the cave.

 

***

It had taken them an hour or so more before they had stumbled across the entrance to the cave. Literally, stumbled, because Deacon had tripped in his power armour, falling down the side of a cliff they were walking along. Thankfully he wasn’t hurt, but it hadn’t stopped Grace from nearly having a heart attack. 

They entered the cave cautiously, rifles raised, and she could hear the familiar whirring of a turret. She poked her head around the corner, and saw a protectron walking around as well.  Nothing had been alarmed yet, so she tested the waters, stepping out into the path of the turret. It continued to spin, and she was relieved.

She also noticed her Geiger countered had stopped beeping, and she wondered if it was safe. 

“I’m going to leave the suit.” she whispered to Deacon.

“What?! Are you insane?” he hissed back, but she quickly hit the release and the armour opened. She stepped out and took a tentative inhale of air.

Still no beeping from her PipBoy.

“I think we’re clear.”

“Yeah... okay, Boss.” Deacon sighed. “If you want to become a ghoul, be my guest.” 

Grace held her rifle close as she made her way into the cave. She could hear something big walking around, and that something making grumbling noises. Her heart started beating fast as she heard Deacons suit hiss and he crept up behind her.

 _You’re crazy._ He mouthed to her, but she just swatted him away. 

She took a few steps closer. 

“Hold it!” Boomed a voice, and Grace froze. “Take it nice and slow, no sudden moves.” Grace gripped her rifle in one hand and slowly raised her arms, inching forward until she was in view of a super mutant.  

“I know you’re from the Institute, so where’s Kellogg, huh?” the mutant said, raising a pistol to Grace and Deacon. “Trying to sneak up on me while you distract me? It’s not going to work! I’m not stupid. I knew they’d send him after me!” 

After initially getting over the fact that a mutant was standing just a few feet away from her, holding a gun to her face, Grace cleared her throat.  “Take it easy,” she said cautiously. “Kellogg’s dead.” 

“Dead?” the mutant – most likely Virgil – asked. “He’s… dead? Don’t you lie to me!”

“I’m not lying.” she said. “I killed him myself.” 

Virgil still had his gun raised. “Did you…? Kellogg was ruthless…there’s a reason the institute used him to do their dirty work for so many years...” Virgil rambled on about Kellogg, and Grace could feel the weight of the rifle getting heavier in her hand. “So you… you killed him, eh? Then what do you want with me?” 

“I know you were a part of it.” Grace said, slowly lowering her gun to the ground. “And you escaped. They sent Kellogg to kill you.”

The opened his mouth in outrage. “How the hell do you know any of that? No, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going back. I can’t go back.” He pointed at himself with his hand. “Look at me! Why are you even here? What do you want?”

Grace took a deep breath. “I need whatever information you’ve got. Anything to help me get into the Institute.”

The mutant just laughed. He was in disbelief at the fact Grace was trying to get into the Institute. This was not the situation she had been expecting at all. She had looked back at Deacon for help but he’d just shrugged his shoulders. She returned her attention back to Virgil and as soon as she mentioned she was looking for her son his position on the situation changed dramatically.

“I had no idea. I’m sorry.” He said, lowering his gun. “Yeah, the Institute has taken people from the Commonwealth in the past. If your son is one of them, I can understand why you’d want to get inside.” 

Grace wished she had just said that in the first place.

“I can help,” Virgil continued. “But… I’m going to need something in return.”

“You help me, and I’ll help you.” she replied. 

Virgil began to explain to them about a serum he had been working on before he escaped. It was a serum that could reverse the mutation found in super mutants. Grace found this hard to believe, but Virgil seemed adamant on it, so she agreed that she would find it for him. He also explained how the teleportation worked, something they called the Molecular Relay, and how if they wanted to use it, they needed to find a Courser.  

Deacon had groaned when Virgil mentioned one. Grace faintly recalled Deacon telling her about them in the past, but she knew for certain that they weren’t something you wanted to come across. But she knew she had no choice but to find one.  

“What do I need to do?” she asked. 

“Listen up.” Virgil said. “The primary insertion point for Coursers is in the ruins of CIT, directly above the institute. So you’ll want to head there. Now, the Relay causes some pretty heavy interference all across the EM spectrum. You’ve got a radio on that PipBoy, right?” 

Grace nodded and Virgil continued.   

“When you get to the ruins, tune in to the lower end of the band and listen in. You’ll be able to hear the interference. Follow the signal, and it’ll lead you to a courser. Then you just have to… not to get killed.” 

_That’s comforting._

“Not gonna lie; the odds aren’t in your favour here.” said Virgil. “But if you do make it, remember what I said about the serum. I need it badly. I… I really do hope you find what you’re looking for.” 

Grace thanked Virgil, and her and Deacon headed back to their power armour.  

“I can’t believe we have to kill a Courser.” said Grace in disbelief. She opened the back panel to enter her suit, but Deacon placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Grace, these aren’t like synths.” he said, eyes shadowed by his sunglasses. “These are designed to kill, and their stealth capabilities are through the roof.”

“I’m sure there’s a way out there to kill them.”

Deacon shook his head. “Not any that I’ve heard of.” He took his hand off her shoulder but remained at her side. “People just don’t walk away from a Courser encounter. It’s rare.”  

Grace really didn’t want to deal with this right now.  

“Deacon, we’ll worry about that when we get there.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

Grace felt her chest tighten. She knew he cared about her well being, but this was new. 

“Deacon.” she said with a sigh, looking down from his eyes and to his chest. “You know I’ll do anything to find my son.”

He went to say something, but she held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t want to discuss any of this right now.” She finally re-entered her power armour and was now looking down at him. “Let’s just focus on getting out of here in one piece, okay? I’m ready for a nice sleep in my own bed.”

Deacon just nodded, getting into his suit, and followed her out of the cave. 


	15. The Courser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that this took forever to update. Went on vacation and then wasn't feeling well when I got back. It did give me a lot of time to figure out how I wanted this chapter to go though, so there's that. Hoping to have more frequent updates after this one.  
> Thank you so much <3

By the time Deacon  and Grace reached the edge of the Glowing Sea once again, Deacon just about deserted his suit of power armour right there. He hated that thing with a passion, walking around in something so bulky. Granted it had saved his life after he fell off that cliff, but that didn’t change his opinion about it. There was a reason he was in the Railroad as opposed to the Brotherhood of Steel.

But that was the farthest thing from his mind.

As he walked alongside Grace, he couldn’t help but mull over everything he'd learned. And there had been a shit ton of information. First, the fact that they had somehow managed to survive a trip through the Glowing Sea. He vowed at that moment to never  _ever_ set foot in that radiated hell-hole again. Second, Virgil was a Super Mutant. An intelligent one at that. Virgil had discussed something called the Molecular Relay and that people in the Institute used that to travel to and from. The amount of science behind everything almost gave Deacon a headache just trying to understand it all. And he was fairly educated.

The last thing was Deacon's least favourite. 

They had to kill a Courser. 

He knew just how dangerous those things were, but Grace seemed adamant on killing it herself. And that scared him. He cared about her too much, and admitting that to himself terrified him even more. 

_This is why I don’t like having partners._

He could try stalling. He was good at stalling. He knew they'd need time to recover from this trip before anyone even thought of going after that thing. A person would need all their strength and then some. 

_I'll worry about that when we get there._

Midnight was just approaching as the pair finally reached Diamond City. Deacon had never felt more relieved to see the city. They came to a junkyard, and he deserted his suit of power armour instantly. He was sure there was some other poor sap that needed it more than him.

"Much better." he groaned, stretching out his arms and hearing more than a few joints pop and crack. 

"Are you good? 'Cause I'm about ready to pass out." Grace replied, her voice still muffled from the helmet of her suit.

Deacon nodded, and he followed behind her into the city. 

The settlement was quiet, with all the vendors shut down for the night. Nothing but a few guards wandered around, and Percy of course. 

"Dugout Inn then?" Grace asked, sounding much more intimidating in her power armour as she towered over Deacon.

"Actually," he said, "I have a place of my own here if you wanted to crash." 

"Really?  _You_ have your own place?"

Deacon nodded. "Yeah, boss. It's great for hosting parties." 

He could just sense her rolling her eyes at him in that armour. "Lead the way then."

His place wasn’t too far from the main square where the shops were. It was tucked neatly away in a corner without drawing too much attention to it. One of the many reason's why he bought it. Grace had to exit her power armour outside as there was no way she'd be able to fit it in through the small door. They were not designed to accompany a power armour frame. He unlocked the door, and opened it to a very quiet and familiar space. He could have cried at the sight of his things, the thought of his bed.

And then he remembered he only had one bed. 

_Fuck._

_No good sleep for me tonight._

"I only have the one bed, but you can have that. I don't mind crashing on the couch. I sleep there more often than not anyway."

_Not really, but_ _gotta_ _be gentlemanly, you know?_

"Are you sure?" she asked, closing the door behind her. A piece of hair was plastered against her forehead and he had to resist the urge to tuck it away. "I don’t mind the couch." 

Deacon smiled. "I insist."

There was a brief moment of silence as the two stood facing each other. For what seemed like the first time in a very long time, Deacon had no idea what to say. Another moment where he was thankful for the sunglasses that masked his eyes. Mainly because Grace couldn’t see his gaze travelling down to her lips...

“Do you have any hot water here?” she asked suddenly, clearing her throat. Deacon blinked, returning his eyes to hers. “Or even a shower?”

“Uh, yeah.” he coughed. “Right back here.” Thankful for the distraction, he lead her down the small hallway to his bathroom on the left. “There’s a shower in there. Painfully small, but it works. The hot water takes a bit to kick in so just let it run for a few minutes.  Towels and everything should be in there.”

Grace smiled and gave Deacons arm a small squeeze. “Thanks so much, Dee.”

_There’s that nickname again._

“No problem, boss.”

Grace retreated into the bathroom leaving Deacon in a flustered mess behind the door. 

_Get yourself together, man._

Deacon let out a small sigh and started getting things together for his makeshift bed. He didn’t really have an extra pillow, so he made do with an old blanket he crumpled into a ball. Distracting himself, he started cleaning his weapons. It felt good to finally get back into that familiar rhythm. He found himself humming to himself as he took apart and put back together his pistols. He was so concentrated he almost didn’t notice Grace come out of the bathroom. 

“That was probably the best shower I’ve had in a very long time.” she said suddenly, and Deacon abruptly dropped the guns magazine onto the table. 

“Glad you liked it." he said, gathering the bullets that rolled out. "Took a lot of caps and negotiating to get that thing installed and running properly.”

Deacon looked up to see Grace drying her hair with a towel. Damp like that, he noticed that it had grown out considerably since the first time he saw her. It was now down to her chin. She was out of her armour but was still in her regular pants and leather jacket. She also looked smaller than usual. 

“Do you have a shirt or something I could borrow?" she asked, taking him once again out of thought. "Just for tonight. Would be nice to get a full nights sleep for once being comfortable.”

“Yeah, of course, boss.”

He showed her to his bed and fished out one of the many white tees he kept in a dresser. His dresser was packed with so many outfits it was practically overflowing. “You can keep that.” he said as he handed her the shirt. “I’ve got more.”

“You’re the best, Dee.” she said with a yawn. 

Deacon smiled once again. He was nothing but smiles around her. They found themselves in a comfortable silence once again, but as much as Deacon wanted to linger, he knew they were both running on empty and desperately needed to catch a few winks.

“Well, I’m gonna hit the hay.” Deacon said as he walked over to the staircase.

“Night, Dee.” Grace replied. "And thanks again."

“Night, Grace.”

And all Deacon could think about as he lay in bed that night was what Grace looked like in that shirt of his.

***

Grace really didn’t want to do it. 

She knew he would hate her for it, but she really had no choice. Sure there were other options, but she didn’t want anyone else involved. And she didn’t want something to happen to him on her account. It also didn’t help the fact that he was so incredibly nice last night, offering up his place after they got back from the Glowing Sea. She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve him. 

Which was why guilt poured over her as she quietly got ready, slipping her jacket over his shirt (which smelled so much like him) and put on her armour. She tiptoed her way down the stairs and eyed his sleeping figure on the couch. 

He was snoring quietly, and at some point in the night his glasses had fallen off his face and onto the floor. She picked them up and set them on the arm of the couch cautiously. She couldn’t help but stare at his handsome face, landing once again on the closed lids of his eyes.

_Green. Definitely green._

She decided to leave a note so he wouldn’t be worried, well...  _as_  worried. Quickly she searched through her pack finding a scrap piece of paper and a pen.

 

_I’m sorry but this is something I have to do._

_Please don’t freak out._

_I’ll be back soon._

_X_

_Grace._

 

As she went to lift his sunglasses to place the note underneath, Deacon started to stir and she froze, her heart practically palpitating out of her chest.

He moaned softly, and whispered “Grace..” before rolling his head to the side, and started snoring again. Grace breathed a sigh of relief, tucking the note under the glasses. 

_Please don’t be too_ _mad at me._  She thought to herself.

~

It took most of the morning before Grace finally got to the Commonwealth Institute of Technology. The building looked very much the same as Before but completely run down. She fiddled with the radio dials on her PipBoy before finding the sweet spot and landing on the Courser signal. 

She followed the signal, having to deal with a group of Raiders just as the signal was getting stronger. At this point they were more of an inconvenience than anything, but she managed without so much as breaking a sweat. She was getting really good at this whole surviving thing. 

The signal lead her to Greentech Genetics, and as she entered the building, she recognized the bodies of Gunners strewn about the entrance. 

Wielding  _Deliverer_ she started to make her way through the building. She got to the second level when gun shots and explosions jolted her to attention.

"The Courser is on the second floor!" Came a voice over a loudspeaker. "Kill on sight. Send re-enforcement's to the lobby in case there are more."

_Oh shit._

Moments later, three Gunners appeared and Grace aimed her pistol, taking out the first two while one ran towards her. She shot him before he had a chance to reach her, and blood splattered across her face. Grimacing, she wiped it away, and continued forward.

She came across more Gunners, taking them out as she went, the man's voice still echoing over the loudspeaker. First the Courser was on the third floor, but as Grace got there she came across more dead bodies. Soon the Courser was at an elevator, but again once she got there he had already passed through. But she was right on his heels. 

"The Courser's after the girl." The man over the loudspeaker said. "Anyone alive needs to get up to the top floor immediately. That's an order!"

_Girl? What girl?_

Grace made her way to the elevator after taking out multiple Gunners. Once she exited she could hear muffled voices. She made her way up a set of stairs and could hear them more clearly.

"I don’t know the password, I'm telling the truth!" said what Grace presumed was one of the Gunners. 

"I don’t believe you are." came a monotonous voice that sent chills down Grace's spine. 

_Tha_ _t's_ _got to be him._

"Oh God, please no!" shouted another man. 

"No, please you don’t have to do this!"

Grace winced as a gunshot rang out, followed by two more. 

She finally reached the top of the stairs, and saw a man standing in a long black coat. He lowered his gun, and turned to face her. His face was masked by glasses of sorts, and Grace had to admit she was terrified. 

"You've been following me." the Courser said, raising his gun to her. "Are you here for the synth?"

Grace took a deep breath. 

_This is it._

"That's not why I'm here."

"If you're not here for the synth, then you're here for me. What do you want?"

Grace took a step forward.

"I'm here to kill you, and take what's inside your head."

The Courser look hardly phased. 

"That you cannot have."

Grace raised  _Deliverer_ and took another deep breath.

_Here_

_We_

_Go._


	16. The Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg... things are happening.

_Please don’t freak out._

 

That was about the opposite of what Deacon was doing at the moment. 

The last thing he had been expecting when waking up was to find Grace gone, having only left one measly little note. He shouldn’t have been surprised, though. He knew that she had been dead set on finding that fucking Courser. He just didn’t want it to be by herself. 

It was just before noon when he had woke, and after reading the note he just knew something didn't feel right. He had barely managed to lace his boots as he grabbed a gun and headed towards the CIT ruins. 

Once he got there, he realized he had no way of following the Courser signal. 

“Damn you and your PipBoy.” He mumbled to himself, and instead relied on his good old fashioned tracking skills. 

Deacons heart hammered in his chest while he feared the worst as he began walking along the river. He passed a corpse of a mirelurk, noticing small footprints in the dirt surrounding it. He followed the prints, taking him around the back of the CIT building until they lead him to a massacre of Raiders. Their bodies were strewn all over, the scent of gunpowder and blood still in the air. Judging by the lack of decomposition, Deacon knew it hadn’t happened too long ago, maybe an hour or so. He kicked a body in the side and it slumped over. Rigor mortise hadn’t kicked in yet. 

Thankful Grace was at least able to protect herself from them, he continued trying to follow the tracks, to the best of his abilities. He weaved his way around buildings, noting that the environment around him was far too quiet. That alone, had his senses working overtime as he tracked Grace. 

Soon, he found himself at the rear of a large green building. He recognized it as Greentech Genetics, something that the Railroad had taken note of a long time ago. Something about marking it down as point of interest for finding any old technology they could recover. Last he heard the place had been overrun by Gunners. 

He started working his way around the perimeter of the building, when he heard a scream. 

“Somebody help! We need help, please - somebody!” 

Deacon tightened the grip on his pistol and carefully made his way to the front of the building, towards the source of the voice. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know what I’m doing.” said the voice – a woman’s – and Deacon desperately wished it wasn’t a trap. 

“ 'S…okay. You’re...doing… what you… can” hissed another. 

Deacon froze. 

_That one sounds too familiar._

He rounded the corner, pistol raised, and his feet stopped in his tracks. 

_Grace._

She was laying on the ground in front of another young woman, who was kneeling down over her. Grace's face was bruised and covered in an un-godly amount of blood, which Deacon could only assume was hers. Her jacket was burnt and charred across her chest, the white t-shirt he'd lent her exposed and stained crimson. 

“Grace.” Deacon whispered, in disbelief, and ran over to the pair, kneeling down next to her. 

"Oh, thank God you’re here." Said the woman. 

“What happened?” He asked her, as he grabbed the med kit out of her hands. He fumbled through, counting only three stimpacks.

“There was… a man. And he - I’d been captured.”

“I know she was fighting a Courser." Deacon said bluntly, stabbing Grace with one of the stimpacks. "She's with me."

He tried really hard not to look down at the seared flesh on her chest. 

“Deacon… that… you?” Grace groaned, and Deacon took her face in his hands. 

“Yeah, it’s me. You’re going to be okay, you hear me?” 

Her eyes closed and he watched a small tear fall down her cheek

His heart was breaking every second. 

“I’m… sorry.” She mouthed, barely even a whisper. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” He ran a hand through her hair and found it matted with both fresh and dried blood. He injected her with the second and third stimpacks, and placed an ear to her mouth. Her breathing was starting to become less strained. 

“What’s your name?” He asked the woman, who had stopped even remotely trying to help and had stood and wrapped her arms around herself.  

“J…J…Jenny.”

“Jenny, you see that tower over there?” He pointed towards the direction of Bunker Hill. From where they were he could  _just_ make it out. "I need you to go there and find a woman named Kessler, okay? She can help Grace."

"Kessler. Okay." Said Jenny, and she unwrapped her arms, staring down at her hands. Deacon reached for his pistol and handed it to her. 

"If it makes you feel safer." He said, and she carefully took it. "Please hurry."

"Okay. I'll be right back."

He watched her leave briefly before returning all of his attention back to Grace. The blood around her wound appeared to have slowed, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

_She's_ _gonna_ _be okay._

He dug through the small med kit, finding some med-x, and injected that into Grace. He knew she must be feeling a shit ton amount of pain, and he knew it would help ease it. 

"I've got you, Grace." Deacon whispered, threading his fingers between hers. They felt cold. "Jenny went to go get help."

Grace mumbled something incoherent, all Deacon could make out was. "Good boy". 

Even in the hands of death she was still trying to be funny.

"Why do you have to be you?" He asked, not expecting much of a response. 

He felt a tear of his own escape, but he brushed it away quickly.

_No time for that shit._

***

Grace hurt. 

Everywhere. 

She tried to move her fingers, but found she couldn’t. 

She tried to wiggle her toes, but that was unsuccessful as well. 

_What is happening?_

It even hurt to think. 

She tried opening her eyes to see what the fuck was going on, but to no avail.

"You're okay." She heard a voice say, and the one thing she could do was just make out who it belonged to.

Deacon. HerDeacon.

And then everything went black.

***

"How's she doing today, Doc."

"She's improved dramatically. That laser wound of hers is healing nicely, thanks to your smart thinking with the stimpacks. The swelling and bruising is almost entirely gone, but she's going to have a scar across her eyebrow. That cut went deep, but I'll be able to remove the stitches soon. She's one tough gal, that Grace."

"Yeah, I know."

"She should wake up soon. She's had enough rest that it's only a matter of time."

"Thanks again, Doc."

"Of course, Deacon. Let me know if you need anything."

***

The first thing Grace was aware of, was something stroking her hand. It was consistent, but comforting. She felt a strong grip close around it then, and it was brought up to something soft. Slightly wet. Were those lips? Her hand was returned to her side, and the faint stroking started up again. 

Her brain slowly started waking up as memories of sneaking through Greentech Genetics, Gunners, and Jenny the Synth flashed before her. She remembered confronting the Courser, and fighting it. It had been difficult, but she had won, remembering the final blow she'd sent to his brain, sending a mixture of wires and matter splattering.  

She also remembered getting hit in the chest with a laser pistol prior, and not realizing it happened until her adrenaline had subsided. 

And just how much it fucking hurt. 

She remembered Jenny helping her into the elevator and through the building, before they finally made it outside.

The sun had shone down bright, almost mocking her as she had struggled to get the med kit out of her pack before Jenny had taken over. She'd made the mistake of looking down and seeing the blood blossoming across the white shirt under her jacket. 

 _Deacon's not going to want that one back._ She remembered thinking, as she'd decided to lay down. Sitting up had started to become difficult. 

_Deacon._

Her eyes flashed open, and the first thing she saw was her bandaged torso. A small spot opposite her heart was stained pink, but she felt relief. She was lying in a bed of sorts. Her jacket and shirt had been removed, but she was still wearing her pants. She also noticed a hand in hers, and she followed the arm up to none other than...

"Deacon." Grace whispered.

His gaze snapped to hers, still somehow wearing those stupid sunglasses, and he tightened his grip in her hands. 

"Grace, how are you feeling?"

She had been trying very hard not to focus on the faint, dull throbbing that came from the wound in her chest. "I'll live, I think."

Deacon just shook his head, running his free hand along his bald head. "You're absolutely crazy, you know that?"

Grace winced. "Yeah... I'm really sorry about that."

She could feel his eyes burning into hers. 

"And to think I was looking forward to having a day off, not worrying about someone dying."

Grace knew Deacon was joking, but at the same time knew it was the truth.

Deacon informed her that he took her to Bunker Hill after finding her, getting Jenny to bring back Kessler who had brought back more than enough people to get her to a doctor. She had only been out for two days, but the Doc had assured everyone that she had been doing great. Doc Weathers, who Grace was introduced to, came in once to check on her, giving her a final stimpack, saying that she should be good enough to maybe walk tomorrow. 

The pair had remained silent for a while, Grace simply enjoying Deacon's company, before she heard him clear his throat. 

"Hey, I got something important to say."

Grace turned her head to look at him and thread her hands together as he looked down at her bandaged chest before looking at her. 

"I really appreciate you putting up with my bullshit." 

 _His bullshit?_ She went to comment, but he held up a hand. "Truth is, it's been a long time since I had a... friend." 

He lowered his hand, and she watched him curl it into a loose fist. "I'm a liar. Everyone knows it. I make no secret of it. Because the truth is: I'm a fraud. To my core." He looked away from her for a moment, and she found herself holding her breath. "When I was young, a hell of a long time ago, I was... well, scum. I was a bigot. A very, violent, bigot."

"Hey," Grace said, reaching out and placing a hand on his. "We all make mistakes when we're young."

She couldn’t count the number of times she'd done stupid shit in her time. 

"A mistake or two, yeah. But what I did?" She watched Deacon take a deep breath. "I ran with a gang in University Point. We called ourselves the U.P. Deathclaws. For kicks we'd terrorize anyone that we thought was a Synth. We kept egging each other on. Started with some property damage, graduated to some beat downs. Then, inevitably, a lynching."

Grace didn’t know what to say.

"The 'Claw's leader was convinced we'd finally found and killed a Synth. Looking back, I'm not so sure."

Grace was quiet for a moment. "I had no idea." She said finally. 

Deacon sighed. "No one does. So, I turned my back on my "brothers" - broke all contact." He took another breath, and looked down at his hands. "Time passed. I became a farmer, if you can believe that." 

Grace couldn’t help but smile, picturing Deacon in a straw hat and overalls. 

"Then one day I found someone. She saw something in me I didn’t know was there. Barbara... well, she was... she just was."

Grace felt her heart hitch in her chest. She had no idea that Deacon had had someone. Well, she had only  _assumed,_ but...

"What was she like?" Grace asked quietly. 

For the first time, Grace watched Deacon's face light up in a way she had only seen from one other person. And that was when she had watched Nate talk about her.

"She had a smile like on those old magazine covers. Her eyes..." He trailed off, but cleared his throat. "We were trying for kids, eking out a living. Then one day... it turns out my Barbara... She was a Synth."

Grace couldn’t help but place a hand over her mouth. 

"She didn’t know that, I certainly didn’t. I don’t know how the Deathclaws found out. But... there was blood."

_Oh my God._

"Shit. I'm sorry."

What else could she say?

"I don’t remember much clearly after that." He said, letting out a sigh. "I know I killed most of the 'Claws. I must've made a big impression. The Railroad contacted me, figuring I'd be sympathetic. Seeing that I lost my wife, and, well... what I did afterwards."

"After what happened to my family, I can understand." Grace said softly.

Deacon gave a small smile. "I thought you might. I don’t even know why I lie anymore. But I can't tell the truth. Everyone – Tom, Dez, you, even that asshole Carrington – they deserve to be in the Railroad. I don’t. I'm everything wrong with this whole fucking Commonwealth." 

"Deacon..." Grace said, placing her hand around his arm. 

"You're the only friend I got." He said. "I don’t deserve you being okay with this. Hell, I'm not even asking for it. But I just figured you should know."

"Everyone's got a past." Grace said, massaging his arm with her thumb. "The important thing is you're trying to make up for it." She sat up slowly and leaned closer, trying not to disrupt her bandage. "I'm still on your side."

Grace could tell Deacon was still deep in thought about everything that had been said. Finally, he turned his head towards her.  

"I'm not the hugging type, so yeah. Good talk."

Grace rolled her eyes, and before she could help herself, leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "You're a good man, Deacon." She said, her lips brushing his skin, and she leaned back, wincing slightly at the pain. 

His hand suddenly came up to her arm, and he held her stare. She didn’t believe it at first, but she realized she could almost make out the shape of his eyes from behind his glasses. She so desperately wanted to take them off. She found her hand slowly reaching up, inches away from the frame...

"Deacon! Kessler wants to talk to you!"

Deacon dropped his hand around her arm, and abruptly stood up from his chair. She dropped her arm to her side as well. He briefly looked down at her, as if for permission, and she just gave a sad smile and nodded.

"Go." She said, and watched him bite his lip before disappearing out of the small room.

_God dammit._


	17. The Reveal

Two more days had passed before Deacon and Grace were able to leave Bunker Hill. Those days were spent with him by Grace’s side as she recovered, but it was a very quick process. Deacon had to help her around the market occasionally, which they had spent a majority of their time there making up stories about the merchants. Deacon’s favourite was that Old Man Stockton was secretly a Swatter enthusiast and had a collection of numerous bats in his place.  

Whenever she wasn’t looking, or was occupied in a conversation, he couldn’t help but find himself looking at her. Ever since that night when she kissed him – on the cheek, but still – he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Granted he had always thought about her, but after telling her about his life before the Railroad, including Barbara and the whole shebang, he felt more comfortable around her.  

And the fact she didn’t run the other way after saying he used to run with the ‘Claws didn’t hurt either.  

He felt he could be more comfortable around her, like he'd finally just let everything go that he'd been carrying on his shoulders. She knew his big secret, which was big considering not a lot of the other agents in the Railroad even knew. Not even Dez, though she always had her suspicions. 

They took their time making their way back to HQ. Grace had mentioned she was still feeling a bit tender, that it wasn’t an issue, but Deacon made the extra effort to carry her pack for her. It was the least he could do.  

 _Guess chivalry isn’t dead._  

Deacon had to admit it was a relief to finally see all his comrades. Glory had simply given him a nod and Tom was over the moon about the information all his MILA’s were giving him. A few of the other agents asked how Grace was, while Deacon walked over to his corner in the catacombs. He sat down at a desk, setting his pistol down.  

“How does everyone already  know about my incident?” Grace asked, sitting down next to him. 

“You’d be surprised, but word travels fast around here.” 

“I still can’t believe I got the chip.” she said as she dug around in her pack. 

Deacon felt a sharp pain in his chest at the memory of finding her on the steps, dying. He had been trying  _really_ hard not to think about it.  

“I know, right?” He mumbled in response, wiping down the barrel. 

He felt a hand on his arm, and he looked over to see Grace staring at him. Even with his sunglasses on he could see just how mesmerizing her emerald eyes were.  

They were one of the many things he loved about her.  

“I’m really sorry about leaving you and going out alone.” She whispered, looking down into her lap where her other hand rested. “But it was something I needed to do-" 

“It’s okay. I get it.” Deacon interjected, leaning back in his chair. “I know you were just looking for an excuse for me to rescue you.” 

 _Never do that to me again, please._  

Grace removed her hand from his arm and gave him a punch in the shoulder.  

They spent the next half hour unpacking, and Deacon finished cleaning his pistol while Grace fiddled around with her PipBoy when Desdemona approached them. 

“I have a report here.” She said, flicking a folder of papers. Dez always made a point to have a physical copy as well as a virtual report. Why? Deacon had no idea. Seemed like too much work. “It reads more like a comic book. Apparently, one hell of a fight took place at Greentech Genetics.” 

Deacon exchanged a look with Grace and she appeared equally confused. He sure as hell hadn’t written a report for that.   

“Oh?” Grace said, looking up at Dez. “What have you heard?” 

Dez furrowed her brows. “One of our agents took a Courser.  _Alone._ Something I’m not sure even Glory could do. And that agent is you.” 

 _Yep._ _Dez_ _is_ _p_ i _ssed._  

“I’m all for one less Courser in the world, but why’d you do It?” She asked Grace, crossing her arms.  

Grace cleared her throat. “I needed a Courser Chip. I need the code on it.” 

Deacon watched Dez's mouth drop open. “You have one of their chips? Intact?”  

Grace sifted through her pack until she held up a small, blood stained chip.  

Dez's eyes were wide on the chip. “Follow me. Now.” 

They stood abruptly and followed behind Dez. “Decoding a Courser Chip is a very delicate operation. A million things could go wrong – the least of which is losing the data.” She lead them towards Tom’s station, and Deacon could see him mixing two liquids together, both of which did not have a promising colour. “Fortunately, we have the right man for the job.” 

“Hey, Dez. You need something?” Tom asked as they reached his desk.  

“Tom, we got a Courser Chip.” 

Tom almost dropped the two vials in his hands. “Whoa! For real? Oh man, it’s been ages.” 

“You’ve hit the jackpot with this.” Dez said to Grace. “Hand over the chip.” 

Grace handed Tom the chip and he inserted it in his modded-up terminal.  

“Alright. This may take a while. I haven’t had to decode one of these suckers in forever.” Tom said, punching in a series of codes. “I’ll let you know when I get something.” 

“Good work, Tom.” Said Dez. “Agent, I hope this helps you as much as it will help us. Good work.” 

Dez departed back towards her desk, and Deacon and Grace were left with a murmuring Tom.  

“We should get comfortable.” Said Deacon. “This might take a while.” 

 

*** 

 

Grace spent the next few hours waiting for Tom, simply relaxing. Grace occupied herself on her own mattress reading a book she had found down there. It wasn’t anything special, but it distracted herself enough from thinking back to the events of a few days prior. She was left alone for the most part, only Glory stopping in once to ask how she was doing. She seemed like one of the few people here that genuinely was concerned for her well-being. Aside from Deacon, of course, it was nice to have a girlfriend. 

“So I heard that our good buddy Deacon here was the one to save you.” She had said, nodding her head over to where Deacon was.  

“Yes, Deacon got me out of there. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t.” Grace murmured.  

She knew exactly what would have happened. 

Nothing particularly appealing. 

“So that’s what, the second time he’s rescued your ass?” 

Grace had finally closed her book. “Why does that matter?” 

“Oh nothing.” Glory said innocently. “Just that you guys sure do care about what happens to each other an awful lot.” 

“Of course, he’s my partner. That’s what partners do.” 

“I know, I know. Just seems like there’s a little more going on between the two of you then you may realize.”  

And with that she had left with a flip of her silver hair.  

This was why Grace equally liked, and disliked her friend.  

She tried to get back into her book after Glory left, but failed when she couldn’t get her mind to stop thinking about Deacon.  

She tossed the book to the side, and couldn’t resist looking over towards him. He was busy himself, immersed in some Shakespeare play she always knew he had by his side. How he managed to read with those glasses on, she had no idea. Which brought her to remembering the few nights ago at Bunker Hill when she had been  _this_  close to taking off those glasses. Just the thought of it sent her heart fluttering. 

 _I need some air._  

Grace stood and dusted off her jeans before walking towards the secret back entrance of the HQ. It lead her through a shallow body of water, barely up to ones knees, but she knew the special rocks to step on to avoid getting your feet and legs wet. It lead her inside a dilapidated building, and she came to a door that opened to a small harbour outside. She looked around cautiously before finally exiting. No one in sight.  

Relieved, she walked a short ways along the river before standing near a rusted bench. She didn’t feel like sitting so she simply stood there while crossing her arms and closed her eyes. She could feel a small breeze lift her hair around her – it had grown since leaving the vault, now long enough that her bangs hung in her eyes and she could tuck them behind her ear. She was looking for silence, and that’s what she got. But it made thinking of Deacon easier.

He had had a wife. Barbara was her name. Grace could only picture her as stunningly beautiful. Probably very slender with long blonde hair. Amazing blue eyes. Grace had to admit she was jealous. Jealous of someone she didn’t even know and someone that wasn’t even alive anymore.  

 _You’re_ _a disgrace._  

She shook that from her mind and instead just focused on Deacon. She thought about his hands, about how lovely his smile was - how it just made her want to melt every time. And that silly wig he wore often. She didn’t mind that he had no hair naturally. It suited him. She almost preferred it. And then she thought about his eyes. Those sunglasses drove her up a goddamn wall. At this point she just wanted to smack them off his face so she could finally see what they looked like… 

“Whatcha thinking about?” 

Grace’s heart froze as her eyes snapped open and she quickly looked to the side.  

 _Speak of the Devil…_  

“Oh you know. The future of humanity and what have you.” She managed to reply.  

Deacon smiled – _that fucking smile!_ – and walked over to Grace.  

“One of my favourites to ponder. That, and where the hell Tinker Tom pulls his conspiracy theories.”  

Grace smiled, and she turned her blushing face back towards the water. 

"Speaking of Tom, he's finally done decoding that chip. Wanted me to come out and get you." 

Grace spun around to face Deacon. "Already? That's amazing! Let's go!" She grabbed his arm and steered him back towards the secret entrance to the HQ, practically running all the way back down to the catacombs.  

Tom handed Grace the code that he'd transferred onto a blank holotape, and said a lot of technical jargon that was lost to Grace. She may have a law degree, but she definitely wasn’t technical savvy in the least. She slipped the holotape in her pack and was beaming next to Deacon. 

"I think this calls for a drink." She said, which soon had them making the short distance to Goodneighbor. 

The sun just set as the pair made their way through the settlement. A few merchants and settlers were out and about, and Grace had forgotten how much she liked Goodneighbor. The last time she'd been here hadn't exactly been on good terms, but she was over that now.  

Nate was dead, and there wasn’t really much she could do about it. 

They head into the Third Rail where the drinking had already started. Granted it never really stopped, but Grace was enjoying the lively atmosphere as she found a table and Deacon went to grab a couple beers. 

"So, what's the next plan of attack?" Deacon asked after sliding into the booth across from her. She took a sip of her warm beer.  

"We need to head back into the Glowing Sea." 

Deacon choked on the beer he'd just taken a sip of. "You're joking." He sputtered, knocking a fist against his chest. 

"No, I'm being serious. We need Virgil to look over the information that was on that chip." 

Deacon just looked at her. "We just got back from there - with you just recovering from almost  _dying –_ and you want to go back already?" 

"I've told you before," she said quietly, looking down into her bottle. "You don't have to come." 

"I want to help you find your son, I really do." He said, and she felt a hand fall on top of hers. She looked up and Deacon was leaning forward. "But, just give us at least a couple days to recoup, okay?" 

She took a deep breath, and nodded.  

"Okay." Deacon sighed, taking another sip of his beer. "Now let's just enjoy this worry-free night." 

The rest of the evening was spent talking about everything but work, the Institute, or finding Shaun. Deacon ended up asking a lot of questions about Before, and Grace was happy enough to tell him. It was nice to be able to talk to someone about her time, even if a lot of things flew over his head. He seemed interested. A few drinks later, and getting kicked out by Ham, they found themselves leaning against the wall outside of the Hotel Rexford. Grace hadn't felt this relaxed in a very long time.

"That was fun." She said, kicking at a rock near her feet. "I needed that."

"Oh definitely." Replied Deacon.

Grace couldn't help but find herself looking up at him. His face was barely illuminated by the lone lamp post beside him. She wasn't sure if it was the liquid courage, or just tired of acting like a teenager, but she found herself clearing her throat.

"What colour are your eyes?" She asked. 

His head briefly turned towards her, and she watched him swallow. "Brown. Very boring."

"I don't believe you."

"You have every reason not to."

They stood there staring at each other, and Grace's heart was practically ripping out of her chest.

_Fuck it._

She turned suddenly so that she was directly in front of Deacon. He tried to step back but couldn't due to the wall behind him, and she raised her hands to his glasses. She gripped the black arms, and was just about to lift them up when his hands came up and closed around her wrists. 

"Grace..." he whispered. 

She desperately needed to know. 

"Deacon. Please?" 

After a moment he gave a single nod, and loosened the grip on her wrists. With that she was able to finally lift the sunglasses up, over the bridge of his nose, and rested them against the top of his head and...

His eyes were closed. 

Her heart fell and she couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Deacon, come on."

Finally, his eyes flashed open, and she let out a gasp.

They definitely weren't brown. In fact, they were two different colours. The left was a vibrant icy blue that took her breath away, and the right was a green similar to hers, but just a hint darker. 

"They're beautiful." She found herself saying.

"What?" He asked.

And before she knew it, she moved her hands to either side of his face and leaned forward, pressing her lips to his.

His lips were still underneath hers, but very quickly he wrapped his arms around her back and pressed her body flush to him, returning the kiss. His mouth parted briefly and she couldn't resist giving his bottom lip a nip between her teeth. She could have sworn he growled, and he began kissing her with so much passion she thought she was going to pass out. 

"The Rexford is right there guys, sheesh. Get a room" A raspy voice shouted.

They quickly broke apart and Grace looked over to see a Ghoul walking by. She felt her cheeks flush immediately and buried her head into Deacon's chest. 

"Oh God." she mumbled into his shirt. 

She could feel the vibrations of him laughing, and he lifted her head up. 

"It's getting late." He said, running his thumb along her bottom lip. 

"Yeah, maybe we should get some sleep."

Deacon looked down at her, with those breathtaking eyes, and smiled. He gave her another kiss, this one not nearly as long as the other, but still fantastic. Grace was only slightly dissapointed. 

_His lips are perfect._

Things were definitely going to be a lot different from now on.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God. 
> 
> This took so many different drafts, and tries, and ideas before I finally settled with and ending I liked. I hope you all enjoyed it. FINALLY.
> 
> I also know that Deacon has blue eyes, but I thought it would be a neat idea to change it up a little bit. 
> 
> I love him so much.


	18. The Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap I actually got something out. 
> 
> Life is still crazy right now, but I'm still finding time to write every once in a while. Glad to finally add more, thank you for your patience. Will be hearing home for Thanksgiving but still hoping to write when I can.

Deacon was a happy man.

What happened last night had definitely taken him by surprise, but at the same time he was expecting every minute of it. He’d been initially contemplating making the first move, knowing that a trip to Goodneighbor and a night of drinking would dull his racing mind. But of course, Grace had beat him to it.

The one thing he hadn’t seen coming, ironically enough, was revealing his eyes to Grace. The only person to have seen them before had been Barbara. They weren’t something he liked to flaunt, knowing something as different as his eyes would attract unwanted attention.

Very hard to blend in the shadows and remain inconspicuous when you had two different eye colours.

But, it was nice to not have to worry around Grace. He trusted her.

The rest of the night continued as it usually did when they had to share a bed, although it involved a bit more cuddling than before. It was nice. Grace had fallen asleep in his arms while he told her about some of his adventures in the Capitol Wasteland. He had never seen something so perfect, and everything just felt so right in that moment.

He was one lucky, son of a bitch.

When he woke that morning, he was surprised to find Grace’s side of the bed empty.

_She couldn’t have gone far._

Sliding on his glasses, he laced up his shoes and made his way downstairs to the lobby. He couldn’t see her amongst the people milling about, so he went outside.

The morning was absolutely gorgeous, and for once the clouds had drifted away and the sky was doused with a vibrant blue. Deacon always loved mornings. So quiet while things were just starting to wake up. It was peaceful.

He wandered through Goodneighbor until he came to Daisy’s shop, and sure enough there stood Grace, bartering with the Ghoul over what appeared to be two mutfruit. Deacon leaned against the side of the State House, hands in his pockets.

“Thank you, Daisy.” Said Grace with a smile, handing her a handful of caps.

“Anytime, sugar.”

Deacon watched Grace as she stuffed the mutfruit into her pack and slung it over her shoulder.

“Hey stranger.” Said Deacon as she neared him.

She looked surprised at first, but her smile grew and she jogged up to him. “Hey.” She said, tucking a small piece of hair behind her ear.

_Fuck, is she ever gorgeous._

“I thought I’d surprise you with some breakfast.” She said, taking out one of the mutfruit and holding it out to him.

“I think I’m sweet enough.” He replied, taking the fruit anyway.

Grace just rolled her eyes. “I was thinking we could head to Sanctuary today?” she asked, taking a bite out of her mutfruit. “I wanted to check in with Preston and see how everything’s going.”

Deacon took a bite of his own. “Your wish is my strong recommendation.”

Grace gave a small smile, nudging him in the side.

They made their way back to HQ to gather some items for the trip. Deacon found himself looking over at Grace a lot more than usual, but now when he got caught he just smiled. More than once their fingers laced together. Deacon shouldn’t have been this happy – he didn’t even really know what they were to each other – but he was. It had been far too long since something this good had come his way. And if that meant risking being happy with someone amidst this shithole of a world, then so be it.

They were greeted by the usual agents milling about as they entered HQ. Carrington was yelling at someone, to no ones surprise. Deacon and Grace briefly departed as they each headed to their corners. Thankfully Deacon already had a pack ready, he always did. More so for emergencies, but spontaneous trips worked as well.

He looked up to see Grace busy packing, and her eyes met his. She smiled, giving him a wink.

“No fucking way.”

Deacon looked over towards the outburst, and there stood none other than Glory, mouth gaping open as she looked between him and Grace.

 _Lovely. Just lovely_.

“What now, Glory?” asked Deacon.

But he knew.

Oh, he knew. And he knew she knew.

“You guys finally fucked, didn’t you?”

“Oh my God, Glory!” hissed Grace, looking around. No one really seemed to be paying much attention.

 _Thank Christ_.

“Okay, maybe not fucked, but you’ve definitely done something.”

Deacon could only smile behind his glasses as Grace turned a lovely shade of pink.

“Even if something happened, why would we tell you.” He said.

“You don’t need to tell me anything. I just know.” Glory replied, looking between the two of them. “And might I just say you two are disgustingly cute together.” And with that she turned around, leaving behind a beaming Deacon and a somewhat embarrassed Grace.

“Just ignore Glory.” Said Deacon, making his way over to Grace. “Are you ready to head out?”

Grace nodded, and soon they were on the road together once more.

***

Grace was impressed at the amount of work done at Sanctuary.

The last time her and Deacon had passed through, only minimal security had been established. Now, almost the entire community was lined with wooden walls, a turret or guard post placed every so often. She had barely recognized Sheffield as he waved down at her from one of the main posts, wielding a rifle. Nearly thirty people filled Sanctuary now, all of the existing houses being utilized as well as new ones. Well, aside from _the one._

A space had been cleared and was thriving with all kinds of crops. Corn, tomatoes, gourds, and even carrots filled the large garden.

It was amazing.

Soon after they arrived Grace had left Deacon to catch up with Preston.

“I can’t believe how much has been done already!” said Grace as the two stood next to each other overlooking a small trading center. She watched a small group of children run past chasing Dogmeat. She couldn’t help but smile.

“Its quite remarkable, isn’t it, General?” replied Preston. “With thanks to you for sending settlers up here when you could. A lot of them heard about us on the trail as well.”

Grace was beaming. “This trade post is fantastic."

“You have to give thanks to the Railroad for that one. They got talking to Bunker Hill and made a deal with one of their caravans. It’s helped out exponentially.”

Grace had no idea that the Railroad had been helping the Minuteman all this time, and that made her smile. They did, after all, have similar views regarding the Commonwealth.

“You had a long day, General. You should relax.” Said Preston. “We got it from here.”

Grace smiled and decided to take a walk around Sanctuary. The place was booming with life and it made her happy to see her small little community filled with people again. Even a few Ghouls roamed the streets, and gave her a wave when she met them along the way. 

Lost in thought, she didn’t realize that while walking had ended up in front of her old house. She had been trying to avoid it since first leaving the vault. Even Codsworth, she’d noticed, had avoided travelling to this area.

_I can’t blame him._

Cautiously she approached the front door. She had given instructions to Preston to not let anyone inside. Even if they tried, they couldn’t, for she had locked the door. The only key to unlock she carried on her at all times.

_I think it’s about time._

Slowly she inserted the key in the door, and turned until it unlocked with a small click. Taking a breath she pulled back the door, and entered slowly, closing it behind her.

Everything looked the same, yet different.

Years of wear and damage had taken their toll on most of the furniture. Holes in the ceiling and the walls had allowed rain and other debris to come in and line the floors. Similar damage had been done to the house she was staying in now, but she had managed to patch up the holes and find better furniture.

She made her way further inside, taking note of fallen pictures, broken vases, nothing you wouldn’t find in the other buildings.

But this was different.

She made her way down the hallway and peered into the bathroom. Stained walls, and a broken shower captured her eyes, but her attention was focused on the mirror. It was dirty, cracked , but still held a reflection as she walked forward and stared into the glass.

She didn’t know what to expect at first, she had tried to avoid her reflection since waking in the vault. Now, she noticed that her skin was a shade darker, and her face was thinner. It almost made her sick. The makeup she’d worn on the day they entered the vault was long gone, replaced by dark circles under her eyes, scrapes and purple bruises. Her hair, once cut very short, was now past her chin and almost to her shoulders. The last time her hair was this long was in college.

Tearing her eyes away, she left the bathroom and held back tears as she pressed against the wall, leaning her head back.

_I never asked for this._

Somehow Grace found the strength to continue to her old bedroom.

 _And Nate’s_.

It was a very familiar scene to the rest of the house. Broken furniture, with the mattress likely looted a long time ago. But she didn’t care about any of those things.

After searching through the broken dresser drawers, pulling it out from behind the wall, and getting on her hands and knees, she found what she was looking for.

Standing up she dusted the frame off, revealing a very faded picture of her standing in her wedding dress, with Nate by her side.

“I’m so sorry.” Grace whispered out loud, tears flowing freely down her cheek. “I didn’t know this was going to happen.” She ran a finger along the image of Nate. “I’ll find our son.”

She set down the image inside one of the dresser drawers and looked down at her hand. The gold band shone in the setting daylight. Taking a breath she pulled the ring off her finger, and placed it on top of the picture.

“You'll always have a place in my heart.” She sighed, wiping away the tears that were still clinging to her skin.

After what seemed like hours, she finally exited the bedroom.

She took a moment to take in her old home, when there was a knock on the door.

Instantly her heart started beating fast, when a voice broke the silence.

“Grace?”

She sighed with relief.

 _Deacon_.

The door opened and sure enough there he was. His face was masked with concern as he closed the small distance between them.

“Are you okay ?” He asked.

Grace just smiled, looking up at the man that under insane circumstances had somehow made his way into her life. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his t-shirt as his arms wrapped around her. She felt his lips press against the top of her head.

“I am now.”

 

 

 

 


	19. The Dream

Deacon sat with a stained plate in his lap, most of the fried mirelurk and roasted carrots long since eaten. He couldn’t help but look around him, as the settlers that made Sanctuary their home, gathered around a small bonfire. He learned they did this twice a week. Twice a week the farmers would gather as much as they could and put together a feast for everyone.

It was refreshing.

He couldn’t remember the last time anyone in the Railroad had thrown together anything, let alone a meal for a community. 

_Can I just retire here?_

He was sitting near Jun and Marcy Long. He’d met Marcy briefly as she was the one to look after him after the incident outside of Slocum Joe's. The woman was an excellent medic, as his wound hardly left a scar, and he respected that. 

Deacon glanced around until he was able to find Grace. She had excused herself for second helpings but he saw that she was busy talking with Preston Garvey instead.   
He watched the two start laughing, and Deacon couldn’t help but feel… was that jealousy? 

_Man, it’s been a while._

Deacon didn’t have anything against the Minutemen, but they didn’t exactly have the greatest history. He knew Grace was just being Grace, trying to help them. But Deacon couldn’t help but wish that she didn’t split her duties. She had enough on her plate. 

But, she did seem to be feeling a lot better. 

He didn’t know what to think when he’d seen her so… empty. He’d asked around Sanctuary if anyone knew where she had wandered off to, someone finally directing him to a house. When he approached it, he didn’t believe she was in there at first, with all the windows boarded up. But then he’d seen the door cracked open, and he just knew. 

And he could relate. 

Oh, how he could relate. 

He’d been in that exact position before. He had stood in his old house, looking around at all the memories he and Barbara had made, before leaving there forever. There was no way in hell he could have stayed there after everything…

Squeezing his eyes shut, Deacon willed those memories away. That was another time, and he was an entirely different person. 

_Time to focus on the now._

He excused himself from the table, and gathered his plate. He dropped it off at the cleaning station, offering to help with the rest of the dishes but the ladies just waved him away. He walked towards Grace and Preston.

“Oh boy, it’s an honest to goodness Minuteman.” Deacon said as he approached the pair. “And here’s me without my autograph book.”

He watched Grace roll her eyes and Preston stood just a little straighter. “Deacon, if you ever want to fight for a cause bigger than a handful of people, you get back to me.”

Grace glared at him as Preston walked away, joining the few other people standing around the fire. 

“What did Preston ever do to you?” she asked, smacking Deacon on the shoulder.

"Absolutely nothing."

Grace scoffed, shaking her head, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smirk.

Deacon cleared his throat, and placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her away from the crowd still gathered at the bonfire.

Before long they were a short distance away, the laughter from the citizens dulled in the background.

"What's going on?" Grace asked, stopping and placing a hand on his shoulder. 

He was quiet for a moment. "I just wanted to ask how you were doing."

Grace looked down from his gaze, and let out a sigh. "I'm holding up."

"It sucks, trust me, I know more than anyone." Deacon replied. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you. Always have been."

Grace finally looked back up at him, and those piercing emeralds shot straight to his chest. "Thank you, Dee."

"Anytime, Fixer."

Just before Deacon could wrap his arms around Grace, he heard her name being called from the bonfire. 

"Grace! Come on Grace! Tell us that story again!"

 _Oh for fucks sake._

Grace smiled up at Deacon. "Sorry Dee, the kids want me to tell them about the Deathclaw yet again."

Deacon met her gaze from behind his glasses. "I'm probably going to hit the hay anyway. Getting a little behind on my beauty sleep."

And with that he watched the second love of his life practically bounce over to the fire, before making his way towards their small, shared house.

 

***

 

_"Manual override initiated. Cryogenic stasis suspended."_

_Her brain hummed with pressure. She coughed, trying to breathe, as she felt her body come back to life. She could hardly feel anything as she tried lifting her hands._ _She opened her eyes and her vision was blurred. She could just make out the pod across from her that she knew Nate and Shaun were in._

_What was going on? She'd never experienced a decontamination to this extent before._

_She could make out a white figure, walking towards the pod._

_"This is the one. Here." A female voice said._

_"Open it." Boomed a man’s voice._

_The pod opened with a hiss and she watched as Nate held Shaun, coughing and moving slowly. She could hear Shaun crying and her heart ached._

_Who were these people? They didn’t have vault suits on._

_"Is it over?" Nate asked weakly, coughing, trying to clear his throat. "Are we okay?"_

_"Almost." Said the man. "Everything's going to be fine."_

_She shivered as she watched the woman reach for Shaun. "Come here... come here, baby."_

_"No, wait!" Shouted Nate. "No, I've got him!"_

_"Let the boy go. I'm only gonna tell you once."_ _The man said, holding up a... was that a gun?_

_"I'm not giving you Shaun!"_

"Grace!"

_No!_

"Grace wake up!"

_Bang._

Grace sat up abruptly, her eyes opening to Deacon, shaking her shoulders.

"Grace, you’re okay. You’re okay. It was just a dream."

The light in her room was dim, but she could make out his eyes. He wasn’t wearing his glasses. 

She tried to calm her erratic breathing.

_Just a dream._

But not really.

"I heard you screaming from the other room." Said Deacon, sitting down on the bed. "I had no idea what the hell was going on."

Grace kept taking deep breaths, slowly starting to come down from the memory.

One she thought she had stored away, deep in the darkness.

_I guess not that deep._

"I'm okay." She whispered. 

Deacon sighed with what seemed like relief, and he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against his chest. She leaned her head against him, taking him in. 

She loved the smell of him.

"Had me worried there for a second." Deacon murmured into her hair.

Deacon unwrapped himself from her, and placed his hand on her cheek. Their eyes met and she almost forgot how intense they were. Many an hour were spent wanting to smack those stupid glasses off his face. 

He gently rubbed his finger along her lip, and she shivered. 

"Are you going to be alright?" He asked, and she nodded. 

Deacon stood and walked towards the door. He hovered in the doorway briefly, looking down at her. “I’m just next door if you need me.”

Grace nodded again, and watched him disappear behind the blanket acting as her door.

~

Grace rolled onto her back for the umpteenth time. Nearly an hour had passed and she still was having troubles falling back asleep. She couldn’t shake the images of her dream from her head. She knew that knowing Kellogg was dead should ease the demons just a tad, but it wasn’t helping. Eventually she drug herself out of bed and walked quietly to Deacon’s room. 

She could make out faint light emanating through the holes in his blanketed door.

_Must still be awake._

She gently knocked on the door frame before poking her head through. He was laying down on his bed with as worn out book in his hands. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asked with a small smile, and Grace nodded. Deacon patted the spot on the bed, and Grace sauntered over, sitting herself down next to him. 

“What are you reading?” she asked, not being able to resist studying the sharp features of his face. 

“I don’t even know. I just found it. The cover’s water damaged as hell and it doesn’t say anything inside…” he trailed off, and she watched his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What are you looking at?”

Grace could feel her cheeks instantly redden. “Just you.” She placed a hand along the side of his temple and his eyes closed briefly. “I don’t get to see your handsome face without your sunglasses as often as I want to.”

He wasn’t wearing his pompadour wig either, which she also enjoyed. There was something about his shaved head that just suited him. It was refreshing just to be with the original Deacon.

She watched his expression change quickly, suddenly serious, and he sat up in the bed. He took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. She barely had enough time to react when he pulled away and looked her in the eyes. 

“Grace, I love you. And I know it hasn’t been that long since we’ve known each other. But I can’t stop thinking about you and what we are to each other. I understand if you’re not ready for something more – with your situation and all. I’ve been down that rabbit hole so I understand it all too well.” He reached up and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “I just want you to know that you can take all the time you need – I’ll be waiting.”

Grace was speechless.

_Did that just happen?_

She could feel her heart hammering in her chest. Yes, it was pretty soon. It had only been a few months. Yes, she still loved Nate, and she knew that a part of her always would. But this was the Commonwealth. And she was fucking sick and tired of all the negativity that existed in the world now. 

She also knew she felt the same.

“Deacon, I love you too.”

She swore she saw a sparkle in his eye before he closed the small distance between them, pressing his lips to hers once more. Grace wrapped her arms around his neck as something fell to the floor with a thud, but neither of them cared. Deacon placed his hands on either side of her hips and somehow maneuvered her so she was straddling his lap. Grace let out a small moan as he moved his lips down to her jaw and gave a small nip. She closed her eyes as he trailed his lips along her neck and shuddered. 

Grace couldn’t remember the last time she had been touched like this, but it had definitely been too long. She also couldn’t resist running her hands along his hard torso, feeling the years of worked muscle hidden under his t-shirt. Deacon captured her lips again, and she worked her hands down and under the hem of his shirt. She felt him shiver at the touch of her hands on his bare skin, and soon she was lifting the shirt over his head. Tossing it somewhere on the floor, she had to pause and marvel at his stature, barely visible in the dim candlelight. 

The moment didn’t last long, for in one swift movement, Deacon flipped positions and was now on top of Grace. Biting her bottom lip before meeting her tongue with his, he trailed his hand up through her shirt and along her stomach.

Heat shot to her core and she couldn’t resist letting out a moan when his hand palmed her breast. 

For once she had removed her bra to try and wash it before bed, and for that she was thankful.

Soon her shirt was gone, and Deacon’s mouth clamped down onto one of her hardened nipples.

“Oh, fuck…” Grace trailed off, her hands wrapped around the back of his head. 

“You look fucking amazing.” Said Deacon against her chest. 

Eventually the rest of their remaining clothes were discarded, and Deacon lay above Grace, his hard cock pressed between them. 

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, and she had to resist the urge to punch him.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

He flashed that grin, the one she fell in love with. “Just checking.” 

And in one agonizingly slow movement, Deacon pushed his cock in up to the hilt. 

“Oh, God.” Grace moaned. She wrapped her legs around his waist as she adjusted to his size. As much as she hated to compare, she couldn’t help it. He was just a tad bigger than Nate, in girth and length.

It was fucking glorious.

Soon they found a steady rhythm, and Grace was trying ridiculously hard to be quiet. 

The walls weren’t exactly the thickest. 

“Oh fuck, just like that, Dee.” Grace moaned as Deacon found that magical sweet spot. Her clit was already throbbing. 

“You feel incredible.” He breathed into her neck as he pumped just a bit harder. 

_Holy fucking shit._

Suddenly a blaring alarm started sounding outside, and Grace nearly smacked her head with Deacon’s.

“What the fuck is that?” He asked, their bodies still connected. 

Grace groaned and before she could reply, someone outside shouted “Raiders!”

“General! They’re coming in strong!” She could hear Preston yelling, and sure enough multiple gun shots rang in the distance.

_Oh for fucks sake._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I finally posted a new chapter. 
> 
> It took me way too long to write this, and about a million revisions. Haven't written much smut before, and I didn't want it to divulge much from the general atmosphere of the story, so hopefully it worked out. 
> 
> Now that that's said...
> 
> THE WAIT IS OVER


	20. The Unfinished Business

The attack from the Raiders maybe only lasted thirty minutes, a small group that had invaded from the east. It had mostly been a blur of citizens scrambling to get their weapons after Deacon and Grace burst out of the house. The alarm was blaring loudly, and soon the Raiders made their way through Sanctuary.

After the air had settled, and the final Raider fell, Grace had immediately began barking orders. Jun, Sheffield, and three Minutemen were to dispose of the Raider bodies. Marcy and a few of the other women to tend to anyone injured. Preston and a few others to patrol the perimeter in case anyone else was out there hiding.

It was amazing, really. Deacon had yet to see her in any sort of commanding position, and it suited her very well. She didn’t take any shit.

Deacon joined Preston reluctantly to secure the area, after Grace took off without so much of a glance in his direction. He couldn’t really blame her, given the severity of the situation.

After some time, it was discovered that one of the men patrolling in the watch towers had been killed. Deacon recognized the telltale head wound all too well.

The atmosphere around Sanctuary was thick with fear as Deacon made his way around. He finally managed to spot Grace, who was heavily engrossed in a conversation between three Minuteman.

As he approached her he could make out her clear, General voice.

“I understand that those fuckers managed to break through a weak spot in the wall. Darren, I need you and Benny to reinforce that spot as soon as possible. We’ll worry about the big stuff in the morning.”

“Yes, General.”

The two men, Darren and Benny hurried off and Grace faced the remaining man. “Paul, check on Mama Murphy and the children. Make sure to tell them everything is okay.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And with that Paul left, leaving Grace alone. Deacon watched her shoulders fall in what he could only assume was a sigh. She lifted her fingers to her temples.

“Everything, okay?” Deacon asked quietly, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Deacon.” She raised her head and her bloodshot eyes met his. “Yeah. Everything seems to be under control now.” She crossed her arms. “Unfortunately, we lost Grayson, but fortunately he was the only fatality. There was a count of about 5 injured, the worst being a grazed bullet to the shoulder.”

“That’s good.”

She shook her head. “Not really. Preston and I had made sure there was no way unwanted people could get in. I have no idea what could have possibly went wrong-".

“Hey,” Deacon interrupted, placing both hands on her shoulders now. “These things happen. Look what happened to the Switchboard and that shit was locked tight.”

She dropped her gaze and let out a small sigh. “I suppose you’re right.”

Deacon gave a small smile. “As if I didn’t have enough reasons to hate Raiders.”

The corner of Grace’s mouth lifted in return, giving him a small wink.

“You should get some rest.” She said, as Deacon lowered his arms. “I don’t know how long I’ll be dealing with all this shit.”

“You sure? I don’t mind helping.”

“Yes. It’s boring, and mostly just me delegating.”

Deacon raised an eyebrow. “I like it when you delegate.”

The look Grace gave him said enough for him to shut up, which was a rare thing for Deacon

~

Deacon didn’t recall Grace coming to bed at all last night. He only knew that because he'd hardly slept at all. Which was pretty much the norm. He awoke to the sound of hammers, and knew he wouldn’t have a chance at getting any more sleep for the time being.

He drug himself out of bed, not bothering to throw on his trademark white tee. But he tugged on some jeans and his sunglasses, before making his way to the kitchen.

And there he found Grace, draped across the couch, faint snores escaping.

 _Poor thing_.

He bent down, running his fingers along her temple. She was fast asleep, and who knows when she managed to get back home. He tucked his arms underneath her and carefully lifted her against him.

Slowly, he walked to her bedroom and gently set her down on the bed. He placed a kiss on her forehead and she grumbled about something regarding a Halloween party.

Deacon ignored it, and let the General sleep.

 

***

 

Grace had no idea what time it was when she opened her eyes. The sun shone through the cracks in the walls and ceiling, brightly enough to indicate it was probably well into the day. She scanned her PipBoy on her wrist and sure enough it read 1:13 p.m.

She groaned, flinging her arm across her eyes.

Last night had been one of the craziest.

She had managed to get resolved what she could last night. The wall had been fixed. Raider bodies were dealt with. Grayson’s body had been buried with a small gathering, limited to his wife and a few close friends.

That part had been the hardest.

A small beep came from her wrist and she squinted at her PipBoy. There was a quick message from Tom.

 

_Yours and Deacon's power armour suits are fixed and ready to go!!_

_T.T._

 

Grace had almost forgotten she'd asked Tom to make any repairs to their suits. She also remembered why they had come to Sanctuary in the first place - to get rested up to head out into the Glowing Sea again. 

She quickly got out of bed and started getting a pack ready. She needed to find Deacon.

Deacon.

She almost forgot about what happened with them last night. She couldn’t help but blush at the thought.

I guess they were official.

She finished gathering her pack supplies, grabbing her pistol and set out to find him.

She met Preston along the way and told him the situation. He understood, as always, already prepared to take over while she was gone. She finally spotted Deacon sitting next to the river, with the same book in his hand that he'd been reading last night.

Wordlessly, she sat down next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“Good morning, beautiful. Or should I say, afternoon.”

Grace smiled as she felt his free arm wrap around her.

“Tom got our suits ready.” She said quietly. “Its time to head back to the Glowing Sea.”

“Just a few more minutes.” Deacon said, and the two sat there, enjoying a worry-free moment for just a little longer.

~

They were about ten miles from HQ when they heard the first gunshot.

Ducking behind an old car, Deacon peered through his binoculars as Grace wielded _Deliverer_.

“What’s going on?” she whispered, squinting into the slowly departing sun to try and see for herself.

“There’s about seven Gunners.” Deacon replied quietly. “They just took down a few ferals. And they aren't looking particularly friendly.”

Grace groaned. She really didn’t feel like engaging in any more combat.

“Should we just try and find somewhere to camp?” she asked.

Deacon sighed. “I think that’s one of our only good options. They don’t look like they plan on leaving any time soon. Best bet would be to wait till early morning and see if they’re still there. Hopefully not.”

Carefully, the two made their way through the streets surrounded by dilapidated buildings until they secured a small spot. Thankfully hidden behind a door, they found a small room. It appeared as though someone else had been there, long since deserted. A mattress lay on the ground, as well as a small shelf with only a few boxes of InstaMash on top.

Grace leaned against the wall, quickly sending a message to Tinker.

 

_Happened upon some unexpected Gunners. Hanging low until morning._

_-Fixer_

 

“I thought we’d never be alone again.” Said Deacon as he walked up to Grace. He wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her to him.

Grace had to admit she’d been wondering the same, checking out his ass on more than one occasion on the way here.

“I do believe we have some unfinished business to attend to.” She said quietly.

And before she knew it Deacon was pressing his lips against hers. She wound her arms around his neck, straining on her toes to kiss him back. He was just too damn tall.

Suddenly, she felt his hands grip at her thighs, and he lifted her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he supported her, thankful they were now eye level. She could already feel his erection pressed against her as he broke the kiss and trailed his mouth along the side of her neck. She moaned at the feel of his lips and couldn’t resist pressing herself against him, desperately needing the friction.

A small moan escaped him as his lips returned to hers. As opposed to last night, there was no gentleness to Deacon’s touches. Just absolute need, and Grace was more than okay with that.

All too suddenly, he removed her from the wall, setting her down on her feet. He started removing her jacket that she wore so often, followed by her shirt, until her bra was exposed.

“This needs to go. Now.” He growled on the last word, and sent a strong tingle right to her clit.

_Fuck. Yes._

Her bra was gone in seconds, replaced by his mouth clamped on one of her nipples and she let out a moan. She started undoing Deacon’s belt with feverish hands. Pushing his jeans past his hips, his cock strained against the thin fabric of his underwear. She couldn’t resist palming him and he groaned into her chest. He lifted his head, burying his face in her neck as she freed him from his briefs. Stroking his shaft slowly up and down, she felt his breath hot against her neck. She felt his own hand snake down the front of her pants, past her panties and his skillful fingers found her slit, already dripping. He pushed two fingers inside, and she bucked against him. The two focused on the other as they locked lips once again, barely able to concentrate on his cock.

Grace gasped against his mouth as his fingers found that sweet spot.

“I need you inside me.” She whispered against his mouth.

_When had she become so vocal?_

Suddenly, Deacon scooped her up in his arms, and carried her over to the mattress. He set her down gently, and they both began removing the remainder of their clothes. Grace lay on her back as Deacon crawled in between her legs.

“One thing first.” He said, and lay on his stomach. He pressed his lips against her thigh and inched their way closer to her entrance.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” She hissed while he teased her with kisses, before finally running his tongue along her slit.

She groaned, digging her hands into what she could, as Deacon began working his mouth onto her. She throbbed as she felt a hand close around her breast as he worked his tongue around inside of her.

She was close, but still far away, and after some time he pulled his mouth back. He positioned himself above her, kissing her, and she could taste herself on his lips.

In one swift movement, he buried his cock inside her to the hilt, and she threw her head back at the sense of fullness.

He started pumping steadily as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He trapped her hands behind her head, their fingers entwined as she raised her hips to his. They definitely weren’t as awkward as the previous night, and she prayed to God, Atom, that they wouldn’t be disrupted.

“Harder.” She found herself gasping, and Deacon started thrusting deeper, the smack of their bodies together loud, and it made her reel back in pleasure. Deacon clamped his mouth on her neck, and she just knew there would be a bruise tomorrow.

Her clit throbbed and she couldn’t resist the urge any longer. She licked her fingers and started rubbing , feeling the pressure building.

“Jesus Christ.” Deacon groaned, and she could feel his cock grow harder inside of her.

Soon, she finally gasped as her orgasm took over, riding the waves of pleasure as Deacon did a few more hard thrusts. Finally he pulled out just in time as he sent streams along her stomach, pumping his cock with his hand.

Grace was breathless as Deacon wordlessly grabbed a rag and wiped her clean, before collapsing beside her.

“Can I get a _Holy Fuck_ with a side of _That Was Amazing_?” Said Deacon.

Grace turned to face him and ran her hand along his bald head.

“Who knew your mouth was good for something other than lies and witty remarks?”

He smiled, pulling her towards him.

“You have no idea.”

Grace had a feeling either of them wouldn’t be getting too much sleep tonight.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't have a super amount of time to edit so if there are any spelling/grammar errors I apologize. 
> 
> Regardless, hope you enjoyed.
> 
> ** Realized I totally messed up the courser chip decoding thing. This chapter had to be corrected a tad, so for those who have read it already, my bad. For those who are reading for the first time, enjoy! **


	21. The Schematics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man has life been busy. Finally have a weekend where I can finally relax. Been having car issues, so that is being dealt with. Last weekend had my parents up for Christmas which was really nice. Life has just been busy, but finally had a chance to sit down and add to this story that I think about constantly. Thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos. You guys are the best. I hope to have more up soon, but who knows what's going to happen. I hope everyone has a Happy New Year!!! <3 <3

Deacon couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when they reached HQ. He had to admit that he missed everybody. He didn’t have anything against the people of Sanctuary, but that was Grace's home. It always would be. His family, on the other hand, fell with The Railroad. And as fortified as Sanctuary was, he still felt the safest at HQ. 

"Hey, everybody. Fixer and Deacon are back." Said Drummer Boy as they entered through the secret entrance. 

The fellow agents each gave the usual nods and  _Hey how_ _y_ _ou_ _doings_ to the pair as they made their way through the catacombs. Deacon couldn’t help but notice Glory giving them the once over. She crossed her arms, tilting her head to the side. 

"You know if you make that face any longer it'll stay like that." Said Deacon, and she just stuck her tongue out at him.

"Suck it, Deeks."

"Sheesh, guys, get a room." Grace interjected, flashing a wink at Deacon. 

He just smiled as he placed his hand against the small of her back, guiding her towards Tinker Tom.

"Fucking finally!"

Deacon and Grace turned back to Glory, who was now facing a groaning Drummer Boy.

"Pay up, sucker."

"Yeah, whatever."

Glory pocketed the caps and rushed over to the pair, throwing her arms around both of them. "I'm so happy for you guys."

"What are you talking about, Glory?" Grace asked innocently.

Deacon just laughed.

"I think you know  _very_ well, Miss Gracie." Said Glory, giving Grace a light nudge with her elbow. "And it took way too damn long."

Deacon could see Grace's cheeks turn a faint pink.

_Cat's out of the bag._

"Yes. If you must know, Deacon and I-"

"Deacon and you are what?" Said Desdemona, who always seemed to magically appear out of nowhere. Deacon swore she always had a Stealth Boy on her, and just liked to fuck with people. 

Deacon watched Grace freeze. She didn’t know the protocol; it wasn’t exactly forbidden for agents to date other agents. It just made things more complicated, more emotional. At first Deacon had closed himself off, not letting anyone in he didn’t fully trust a hundred percent. It was also mainly why he never wanted a partner. He didn’t need that extra body getting in his way. Of course, there was the small matter of Barbara, and well, everyone knew how long that took him to accept. 

"… are together." Deacon finished for Grace. "And if people could stop getting off on the smallest inkling of gossip around here, that would be fantastic."

The entirety of HQ was silent. 

Dez was hardly phased.

"Very well. I believe Tom is waiting for you."

And without another word, Deacon headed for Tom's station with Grace in tow.

~

If someone had told Deacon he'd be venturing into the Glowing Sea, he would have laughed in their face and told them to stuff it. The fact that he was now in there for a second time, he didn’t know what to think. He hated every minute of it, even though he and Grace knew where they were going this time. It still didn't hide the fact that they were in the most dangerous place in the Commonwealth.But he knew that wouldn't stop Grace from finding her son. And he knew that he had no chance in hell of stopping her. 

So that's why he went. 

Terrified of losing her, but at least they'd go down together.

"Are we there yet?" He asked after they'd been trekking across the Glowing Sea after the first hour.

"Don't. Even. Start." She practically snarled, and Deacon smiled. 

They were quiet for most of the trip, mostly focused on getting there in one piece. It was going by a lot faster, as they recognized a lot of landmarks that had them going in the right direction. They were able to bypass the Children of Atom this time, which thrilled Deacon. Those guys gave him the creeps.

Both the Geiger counters in his and Grace's power armor were ticking away as they made their way to Virgil's cave. He could just barely make out the mountain that held it, cloaked by thick clouds.

_Ah radiation,_ _you_ _unbelievable bastard._

Finally, they managed to get to the cave, and Deacon was happy to finally breath some fresh air.

Well, as fresh as it could be.

"Wasn’t sure I'd see you again." Said Virgil after Deacon and Grace had exited their power armor. "You managed to get what you need?"

Grace dug through her pack, holding up a holo-tape. "I have the code."

"Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised." Grumbled Virgil, taking the tape from Grace and lumbering over to his chemistry station. "You did get rid of Kellogg, after all. Not too much of a leap to take down a Courser."

Deacon's heart fell, remembering having to go after her and finding her in a crumpled, bloody heap.

Something he tried not to think about ever.

"How'd you manage to get it decoded?" Virgil asked. 

Grace glanced over at Deacon with a small smile. "I've made some friends in the Commonwealth."

"Better you than me." The mutant grumbled. 

Virgil began explaining what he had been doing while Deacon and Grace had been getting the Chip. From memory and simply overhearing conversations, he had managed to whip up some schematics. Grace peered over the blueprints, while Deacon tried to make sense of it. They were impressive, albeit fairly messy. He was sure someone like Tom would have zero issue figuring out the plans.

"You need to build a device that will hijack the signal the Institute uses to teleport Coursers, and send you instead." Said Virgil, adding some final touches to the schematics. "You know the craziest part of the design? That classical music station..."

"Don't tell me. It's the carrier signal." Said Grace.

"That's right.  All the data's on harmonic frequencies. You've been hearing it all along."

"I always hated that station." Murmured Deacon.

"I want to be clear that this isn't my area of expertise – I was Bio Science." Said Virgil.

"I'm sure it'll work." Reassured Grace.

"For the record, I haven't made any promises." Said Virgil, as he rolled up the schematics into a metal cylinder. "But if you can build this device, and make use of that code, you should be able to override the signal from the Institute's relay." He stood in front of Grace, holding out the cylinder. "Can you, I mean, can you build it? You have people that can help? This is a lot for one person, even you."

Grace took the schematics from Virgil.

"I've got it covered."

***

The second trip to the Glowing Sea had been successful, but also tiring. It had taken almost the entirety of the day, the sun long gone once Grace and Deacon made it back to the edge of the Glowing Sea. They decided it would be best to spend the night in that small cabin they had stayed in previously. 

Grace was extra cautious, hoping there wasn't another Deathclaw running about, and scouted the area before they finally settled down for the night.

"I pray to God that that is the last time I have to go into that wasteland." Grumbled Deacon as he exited his power armor. 

Grace couldn’t help but marvel at him.

Here was this man, who risked life and limb for her, to help her in her quest to find her son. 

She didn’t know what she deserved to find someone like him.

Having already left her power armor, she closed the few steps between them and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. His arms immediately closed around her, and they stood together.

"Thank you, Deacon." Grace said into his neck. "Thank you for trusting me."

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that?" He asked.

"No, I'm serious." Grace leaned back from Deacon, so she could look up at him. "You have so much faith in me, that you follow me into the Glowing Sea to get blueprints from a Super Mutant. Do you know how crazy that sounds?"

Deacon just smiled. "Sounds like my kind of crazy."

Grace just sighed.

"You're an idiot."

"And you're my idiot."

Grace rolled her eyes, pressing her lips to his. 

"Tomorrow we'll tell Dez everything. If we can get the help from the Railroad and the Minutemen we will be able to build this thing."

"Don't worry, we will."

~

For once Grace had slept through the night, with Deacon tucked around her. She'd forgotten just how comforting it was to have someone beside you in the night. 

They got ready quickly, wasting no time getting into their suits of power armor, and made their way to HQ. It wasn’t a terribly long journey, but enough to put a dent in the day.

The HQ was booming with activity as Grace and Deacon returned, having stored the power armor in the large weapons room HQ had accumulated. Not many people knew that they had gone back to the Glowing Sea, which Grace liked. The less attention on her and Deacon the better, especially after the previous mornings incident.

They found Dez hunched over her terminal, punching away at some keys. "Do you need something?" She asked, not bothering to look up from her work.

"I have plans here to build a Signal Interceptor that can get me into the Institute."

Dez froze, instantly turning in her chair and standing up.

_That certainly got her attention._

"So that's what the Courser Chip was all about. You needed that frequency I take it? What does this machine do?"

"The Institute uses teleportation to get in and out. The Interceptors can hijack their signal and send me instead."

Grace swore Dez's jaw dropped.  "We've spent dozens of years and too many good agents lives only to discover not a goddamn thing. And now we have the answer, thanks to you." Dez lifted a hand to her head, rubbing her temple. "Teleportation. That the Institute could build something so..." She trailed off.

Grace couldn’t blame her.

"But we've got work to do." Dez continued. "This is our top priority now. I want Tinker Tom to help you in any way possible to get this device built."

At that moment Tom sauntered over. "Ready to hand over the plans?" He rubbed his hands together. "This is the big one."

"Do you think you can decipher them?"

"I won't know till I get a look see."

Grace handed him the plans. "Here you go. Let's see what we need."

Tom took the schematics out of the cylinder, flattening them out on a table. "Woah, who wrote this? Some kid with a crayon? Shit, must've been a really big kid." Tom was quiet, but only for a moment as he glossed over the papers. "Oh man! Molecular transmission via encrypted RF waves? Those Institute eggheads are crazy." Tom began to spout a bunch of technical jargon that was giving Grace a headache.

"Skip to the part where we build the thing, Tom?"

"The plans will cover all the high-end egghead shit, but they're missing a ton of engineering details. Filling in the gaps will take time. This bit here," he pointed to a messily drawn image that Grace couldn't make out at all. " 'Stabilized Reflector Platform'. Just needs some high-grade metal. Easy. By the time you finish that, I'll have the rest done."

Grace was relieved. "Nice work, Tom. Glad you're on our side."

"Hey tell that to Carrington, though. We can scrounge up the platform components you need. No problem. But where to build it? It's going to need some serious space. This baby's big. I know PAM was running numbers on a good site for a new safehouse. It's got a workshop, good location, and the full blessings of her predictive algorithms. Once you set up the safehouse, we'll drop off the materials there." He paused, finally taking a breath. Tom talked way too damn fast. "Or, you could build your own platform somewhere else, I guess. Your call."

Grace thought for a moment. She had the bodies in Sanctuary who would be more than willing to help her out. It would be easy enough to clear out a spot to build it. There was an area on the north eastern part that had a space big enough. 

"The people of Sanctuary would provide hands to help build." Grace said. "It's far enough away it won't arouse suspicion from the Brotherhood. I think we should build it there." Grace turned to get Deacon's opinion, but he just held up his hands. 

"This one's all yours, General."

Grace smiled. "Sanctuary it is."


	22. The Days Before

Deacon didn’t think he’d ever seen the Railroad working with another faction in his life. And the fact they were working with the Minutemen, really was icing on the cake.

Yes, it was true that the Railroad were secretive – they had to be. One of the many reasons why they chose to work with a selective few. It took a lot of reasoning for Bunker Hill and Goodneighbor to get behind them. All for a good cause, which was why it was almost refreshing for Deacon to watch his fellow agents working together with Grace’s Minutemen in building this relay. 

After Grace had decided she wanted it built at Sanctuary, everyone did their part in getting the supplies up there. It took nearly a week for Railroad agents to haul the supplies up north. Mainly because they didn’t want to arouse suspicion. Deacon had heard murmurs from Diamond City, and he hoped they stayed murmurs. 

After the platform was built Grace had contacted Tinker, and he was thrilled. He’d managed to fill in the blanks in the blueprints and had sent a list of supplies to Grace to built the rest of the relay, all common enough parts. There were a few that Tinker thought would be difficult to obtain, but Deacon and Grace, the dynamic duo, had found them with no issue. 

It had been nearly 2 weeks since they’d started building, but Tom was still unsure of when it would be finished. 

_“Probably another day or two, given that the wind will be blowing east and I can get these dials set up, we should be golden.”_

Deacon didn’t know how the wind was a factor in this, but he didn’t ask too many questions. 

After many hours of helping carry and lift items, he let himself have a break. He helped himself to some purified water that had been set up at a table nearby. Deacon was immensely grateful for the people of Sanctuary who constantly supplied food and drinks for the workers. He nodded to Marcy, who arrived with a plate of vegetables and stew. 

He noticed Dez standing next to Tom, looking over the blueprints. Deacon was oddly proud of her. Giving the go ahead for her agents to work with Grace. Even she knew that this was one of the only shots of getting into the Institute. It had been a long time coming.

Wiping the sweat from behind his sunglasses, he decided he needed to stretch his legs. He casually strolled past the guards at the entrance, hands in his pockets. 

“Just going out for a stroll, gentlemen. No need to raise the alarm.”

No one said anything in response.

_Tough crowd._

He found himself crossing the bridge and walking along the river. Lately he found himself doing these walks more often by himself than with the company of Grace. He rarely saw her anymore, as she was busy helping build the relay, or setting out to find more parts. He always offered to go with her, but she insisted on him staying in Sanctuary. Even when she was home she would come to bed far after he'd fallen asleep. He knew her mind must be racing at the fact of finally seeing her son, so he wasn’t worried about that. 

He made his way back along the river, finding himself at the old Red Rocket station. Grace had fixed it up herself, well before they had “officially” met, dragging in some chairs and a bed, making it a little home away from home, or just somewhere to go when a person needed some time to themselves. 

It was perfect.

He made his way inside, digging through a cooler and grabbing himself a Nuka Cola. Before he went to take a sip, a faint bang stopped him.

“…hello?” he called out cautiously. 

_I am definitely not in the mood to get murdered today._

He heard some more rustling, and placed his hand on the gun holstered to his side. Setting the Nuka Cola down, he carefully wielded his pistol, flicking off the safety.

“If you’re a Raider, bang twice.”

Nothing.

 _Well, shit_.

Suddenly, the door behind him slid open. Panicked, Deacon spun and raised his pistol.   
And there stood Grace. 

“Holy fucking shit.” Deacon said, practically dropping his gun. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. That’s my job.”

She didn’t say anything, simply standing in the doorway as he set his gun down on the table. 

“Grace, are you okay?” he asked. 

And the next thing he knew she closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his.

Surprised, but only at first, he cradled her face returning the kiss. There was urgency there that hadn’t been there before, which made him a little worried.

“Grace, what’s wrong?” he asked against her mouth.

“Just shut the fuck up, Dee.”

And so he obliged.

 

*

 

Grace didn’t want to think about anything. She didn’t want to think about the constant reminder from back at Sanctuary that she was going to the Institute. She didn’t want to continue worrying about if she’ll even make it there in one piece or how shell get back. Or if she’ll ever see Deacon again. 

And his concern wasn’t helping. 

She thread her fingers through his pompadour wig, not caring that she was making it ajar. She pressed a leg between his, craving his touch. It had been far too long since they had last been alone like this, her mainly focussed on getting the teleporter built. And she couldn’t take it anymore. 

“God, I missed you.” She whispered against his mouth, and she felt him shiver. 

She felt his hands move from her face down her chest, and he squeezed her breast through her shirt.

“You have no idea.” He moaned. 

She could feel his cock straining in his pants already, and she grinned. 

_I think I do._

She kissed down his neck, before moving her hands down to his waist. She hurriedly undid his belt and tugged his cock free. Getting to her knees, she pumped his cock slowly, feeling him jerk against her. She watched a bead of precum form at the tip and she eagerly lapped at it.

“Oh, fuck.” Groaned Deacon.

Grace then took Deacon in her mouth, slowly swirling her tongue along the head of his cock. She gripped the base of the shaft as she did so, jerking him off as she enveloped him in her mouth. 

“Grace…” he moaned after some time. “I need you.” 

Reluctantly, she let go of his cock out, wiping her mouth. He tugged her to her feet, instantly pressing his lips to hers. She felt him nip at her bottom lip, and it sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her core. She was more than ready.

They somehow made their way to the small bedroom, undressing each other as they did so. Grace sat at the edge of the bed, and Deacon gently pushed her down.

“My turn.”

He knelt at the edge, pulling down her panties and tossing them to the side. He spread her legs apart and she stared at the ceiling. She felt him trail kisses up her thighs, feeling his breath against her clit. She closed her eyes, gripping the sheets in anticipation.   
Finally, she felt his mouth close against her, and she let out a moan. He sucked on her throbbing clit, as he worked two fingers inside her, thrusting hard. His fingers were so long they reached every possible sensitive part, and already she felt her orgasm building.

“Don’t stop.” She whispered, knuckles white.

He didn’t, of course, instead inserting a third finger while increasing the sucking pressure and that was enough to send her over the edge. She throbbed with pleasure as he kissed her thigh, fingers thrusting through the wave. She jerked uncontrollably when it became too much. 

Grace opened her eyes to see Deacon lick his fingers and discard his remaining underwear. His cock sprang freely, and her body ached to have him inside of her.

“Fuck, you’re an angel.” He said.

Grace didn’t think she’d ever seen a more beautiful human.

She stood up from the bed, crashing her body into his. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her lips to his. She could taste herself on him. Breaking the kiss, she gave Deacon a small push to the bed, as he sat down on the edge. 

“Lay down.” She ordered softly. 

He obliged.

She climbed over him, straddling his hips. That’s when she realized he was still wearing his sunglasses. She reached down, taking them off, and tossed them onto the bedside table. 

His eyes gleamed as he looked up at her, that cheeky grin plastered on his face.

 _Much better_.

Grace situated herself above his cock, holding it in her hand as she slowly lowered herself onto him. She moaned as he filled her, and she bit her lip, closing her eyes.

“Christ, you’re beautiful.” Deacon said quietly.

Grace began to move her hips in a steady rhythm, grinding against Deacon. He groaned, digging his fingers into her ass. In this position , his cock was hitting all the sweet spots, so she could already feel her second orgasm forming. Her hand trailed down to her clit, and she started rubbing vigorously. It didn’t take long before Grace was gasping as her second wave of pleasure ran over her. She collapsed against Deacon, and he wrapped his arms around her and began thrusting into her.

“I’m so close.” He gasped, and she buried her face into his neck.

“It’s okay.” She said. 

_Didn’t have an emergency procedure after giving birth to Shaun to tie my tubes for nothing._

His fingers from one hand laced through her hair as their foreheads pressed together. Deacon pumped harder and more erratic and with a gasp was soon filling her. She’d forgotten just how amazing it felt. She peppered small kisses along Deacons face. 

“That was something else.” Deacon wheezed. 

They were still connected, and Grace could feel Deacon growing soft. 

Grace didn’t say anything, instead burrowing her face in his neck.

“I love you.” She said. 

She felt lips press to her hair. 

“I love you too.”

They were silent as they detached themselves eventually, cleaning off each other and gingerly getting dressed. They cuddled together back on the bed, no one wanting to say anything. 

Grace found her thoughts of the Institute returning, and she thought of finally finding her son.

“I’m scared, Dee.”

He gave her body a squeeze, breath warm on her neck. 

“Me too.”

 

 

 

 


	23. The Institute

Today was the day.

Deacon and Grace had been having lunch when Preston knocked on the door, letting them know Tinker was almost finished. Grace had looked up at Deacon, and he could see the fear mixed with excitement flash across her eyes. He'd simply placed his hand on hers, giving it a small squeeze. 

 _"Better late than never."_  He'd said.

In reality, Deacon was terrified. 

He trusted that Tom knew what he was doing. The guy was a crazy genius. But there was still the smallest inkling in the back of his head that hated every second of it. He wanted to grab Grace and just run away. To where, he had no idea. Somewhere away from all of this crazy shit. Somewhere where "normal" existed. 

In his dreams, maybe.

There was no such thing as normal in the Commonwealth.

They had taken their time getting to the relay. Of course, Grace already had a pack prepared, as if she knew exactly what to expect.Deacon had taken that time to hold her close to him. He knew he was only making it worse, but he needed it. 

They both did. 

By the time they made their way to the platform, a small group had been gathering to watch. It wasn’t announced when they would be trying, but word traveled fast in a small community. Deacon recognized most of the settlers, including the Longs, Mama Murphy, Sturges, and Sheffield. He was surprised at how many people he had come to know since meeting Grace. 

Dez was standing with Tinker in front of a monitor with numerous dials. The giant platform stood in the center, looking very intimidating. It looked like something out of nightmares, with giant arms on three sides. You couldn’t pay Deacon all the caps in the world for him to stand up there. And that made Grace the bravest woman he ever knew.  Sparks sprinkled down every so often from loose wires at the top. Safety didn’t seem like the greatest priority at the time of construction.

"Status report?" Dez asked Tom once Deacon and Grace approached them.

"We got activity, Dez. Not sure how long before it peaks."

Dez turned to face Grace, who was looking the platform up and down. "The Institute is a huge unknown. Before we can make any plans, you need to do something."

Grace looked towards Dez, who lowered her voice. "What I'm about to tell you is the most closely guarded secret the Railroad has."

_Ahh_ _, yes._

Deacon nearly forgot about  _that._

"It's time you learn about Patriot."

Grace crinkled her nose, glancing at Deacon. "Patriot?"

Dez nodded. "There's a man, or a woman – we're not sure, inside the Institute who helps synths escape to freedom. Dozens of synths owe them their lives. We don’t know their name, we’ve never had a way to contact them. So we gave them the code name: Patriot."

Deacon looked down at Grace. He knew this was a bit to take in. On top of trying to find her son she now needed to find Patriot, and it was anybody’s guess as to where, or who, they could be. 

“If your plan works, and you’re able to get inside the Institute, we need you to make contact.”

_If your plan works._

Deacon could have smacked Dez right there. 

“It’s going to work, Dez.” Deacon said coldly. 

“Okay.” Grace said simply. “I’ll do my best.”

“Tom's encrypted a message for Patriot’s eyes only. Once he sees it, he’ll contact you.” Said Dez, and Deacon could tell that she was beginning to get nervous. “Until you make contact, and probably after, you need to stay in their good graces. You need to infiltrate them. Can you do that? Can you be our agent on the inside?”

Grace simply smiled. “Bring it on.”

Dez placed her hands on either of Graces shoulders. “You can do this. I believe in you.” 

Grace slowly approached the platform, only hesitating a moment before climbing the small stairs, and situating herself in the centre. 

_This is it._

Dez handed her the holotape, and Grace tucked it carefully into her pack.

“Just plug it into any Institute terminal and wait for the reply.” Said Dez. She walked back towards Tinker. “Tom, talk to me.”

A loud whirring noose began, and Deacon had to admit he was feeling just a tad more skeptical at this point. 

“Booting up the scan sequence. This frequency is only going to work once.  _You-know-who_  doesn’t make the same mistake twice.”

Deacon looked over at Grace and saw that she was already focused on him. She gave a reassured smile, but it did little to make him feel any better.

“So stand still,” continued Tom. “Gotta lock in all those molecules of yours. Hopefully we won’t miss any. There’s only, you know, sixty trillion of them.”

Deacon glared at Tom.

_Not helping, Tinker._

“Alright, feeding our baby some juice. Let’s see what’s she’s got.”

The whirring got louder, fans kicking up dirt and other small debris. Everyone covered their faces, but Deacon was locked on Grace. Her hair whipped around, but she stood her ground. In that moment he took the time to memorize everything about her.

He traced her lips with his eyes, remembering their touch. He studied her nose, the line of her jaw, the small scar across her eyebrow. And finally her eyes. Those green emeralds that filled his heart.

Something banged loudly, and Deacons heart fell.

“Oh man! Don’t worry!” Tom shouted over the noise. “That’s… that’s all part of the plan.”

“Do whatever you can to gain their trust!” shouted Dez. “Lie, tell them what they want to hear. Make up a cover story and sell it!”

“Come on! I think I got it!” Tinker exclaimed. He fumbled with a few more dials and switches. “Establishing lock on the Institute signal!”

Deacon’s heart was beating fast. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He wanted to run over and snag Grace before she could do this, but he was frozen in place. 

 Someone had to be the first one to do this, and he knew it had to be her. 

“Just get all the information you can about synths.” Dez shouted. “About the Institute's plans. Find their weaknesses. If we can disable or destroy the Institute, we may have to do it. You jack that holotape into any terminal and Patriot  _will_ make contact. He has to.”

“Got the RF.” Said Tom. “We got it.”

“Find a way to save them.” Dez said finally. “Nobody else can.”

The platform sparked with lights and the whirring continued to get louder. Grace had a look of panic on her face, and looked to Deacon. This time he was the one to reassure her. He flashed his signature grin. 

“You got this, Fixer.” 

She smiled, holding up her hand to her heart. 

_Come back to me._

“Now!” Tom shouted, flipping a switch.

 And in a flash of blue light, Grace was gone.

*

It was all too bright.

Grace squinted at the fluorescent lights buzzing above her. Funny how something like this wouldn’t have bothered her Before, but now, after months of getting used to candlelight and lanterns – electricity would affect her negatively. 

It hadnt taken her long to get accustomed to her surroundings. Everything was in pristine condition. She had relayed into a small room surrounded by colourful lights and dials. Stepping forward she had found herself in a room of sorts, where in the centre rested a terminal. As far as she knew no one was in this area of the Institute, but she didnt take any chances. 

She kept her hand tentatively on  _Deliverer_ at her side as she made her way farther into the room.

"Hello." Came a man's voice over a loudspeaker, and it sent chills down her spine. Immediately, Grace wielded her pistol. "I wondered if you might make it here. You're quite resourceful."

Grace had no idea how this man could see her, but it didn’t surprise her if they had cameras everywhere. She knew there must have been some surge from the relay that hadn't gone unnoticed. 

"I am known as Father; the Institute is under my guidance. I know why you’re here. I’d like to discuss things with you, face-to-face. Please, step into the elevator."

As if on cue, the doors of the small elevator at the end of the room opened with a quiet hiss. 

_Witty, mother fucker._

Grace really had no other choice than to listen to the man. She was in their territory uninvited, and thought it would be best to respect their wishes. She still held  _Deliverer_  as a precaution as she timidly stepped forward into the elevator.

The doors shut quickly, and soon she felt it start to go down. 

"I can only imagine what you've heard, what you think of us. I'd like to show you that you may have...the wrong impression."

The walls that had surrounded her suddenly vanished as the glass revealed an incredible view. Grace couldn’t believe her eyes as she watched people walking from different buildings. Synths, Gen Ones and Twos, and probably even Threes walked freely. She recognized Coursers, and watched as a few children ran around. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. 

"Welcome to the Institute." The man continued. "This is the reality of the Institute. This place, these people, the work we do. For over a hundred years, we've dedicated ourselves to humanity's survival. Decades of research, countless experiments and trials... a shared vision of how science can help shape the future."

The elevator disappeared back into the ground as the man continued. "It has never been easy, and our actions are often misinterpreted by those above ground. Someday, perhaps, we can show them what we've accomplished. But for now, we must remain underground."

The elevator came to a stop, opening to another doorway leading into a hallway. Wielding her pistol, Grace made her way through as the man continued.

"There's too much at stake here to risk it all. As you've seen, things here above are... unstable."

Of all things, Grace found herself at the open door of another elevator. Reluctantly she walked inside, this time feeling herself go up.

"I'd like to talk to you about what we can do... for everyone. But that can wait. You are here for a specific, very personal reason. You are here, for your son."

And then the doors opened and Grace felt her heart drop.

Because in just a few feet in front of her, in some glass room, sat her son.

"...Shaun?" she gasped. 

"Huh?" Said the boy. He slowly stood and turned to face her. "Yes... I'm Shaun."

_Shaun_

_M_ _y boy._

"Shaun?" Grace stuttered, dashing forward, forgetting everything about her mission. She placed her hands on glass surrounding him. "Oh my God, it's really you."

Shaun looked confused. "Who... who are you?"

_Of course_ _he wouldn’t recognize me._

"Shaun, it's me." Grace reassured. "I'm... I'm your mom."

"Father... what's going on?" Shaun asked. "What's happening?"

Grace felt the knife stuck in her heart twist.

"Those bastards." She whispered. "They... they killed your father."

"What's going on? Father? Father!"

"Shh... it'll be okay, Shaun. Mommy's here now."

"I don't know you! Go away!" 

Grace felt the knife twist some more. 

"Father! Father, help me! There's someone here! Help me!"

Grace felt tears pool under her eyes.

"Please, Shaun." She begged. "I'm your mother... talk to me!" She rushed to the door, trying to open it but it was locked. Grace banged on the metal. "Just open the door!"

Suddenly a door hissed open, and an older man with graying hair, dressed in a white lab coat stepped through. Grace raised her pistol as the man looked down at Shaun.

"Shaun... S9-23 Recall code: Cirrus."

Grace watched in horror as her boy slumped forward, completely motionless. 

She was speechless.

"Fascinating." Said the man. "...but disappointing. The child's responses were not at all what I anticipated. He's a prototype, you understand. We're only just now beginning to explore the effects of extreme emotional stimuli."

_What._

_The._

_Hell._

Grace wanted to scream.

"Please try and keep an open mind. I recognize that you are emotional, and that your journey here has been fraught with challenges."

Grace was vibrating. This man seemed unphased by the barrel aimed at his face. She could feel her hands shaking, and knew whatever shot she had to make would be an awful one.

"Let's start anew." He continued nonchalantly. "I am Father. Welcome to the Institute." 

"This is... insane." Grace said through gritted teeth. "All of it."

"The degree of trauma you're experiencing right now is understandable." Finally, the man held up his hands. "Please, just try to relax. I know this is all difficult to take in."

"I want answers, asshole.  _Now."_

"Under the circumstances, I will forgive your... vulgarity. But, I need you to realize that this... situation, is far more complicated than you could have imagined. You have travelled very far, and suffered a great deal to find your son."

Grace was really close to shooting this guy.

"Well," he continued. "your tenacity and dedication have been rewarded." The man lowered his arms. "It's good to finally meet you, after all this time. It's me. I am Shaun. I am... your son."

Grace didn’t miss a beat. 

"Bullshit."

"Is it? After all the things you've seen and experienced in the Commonwealth? Think about it... In the Vault you had no concept of the passage of time. You were released from your pod, and went searching for the son you’d lost. But then you learned that your son was no longer an infant, but a ten-year-old boy. You believe that ten years had passed. Is it really so hard to accept that it was not ten, but sixty years? That is the reality. And here I am. Raised by the Institute, and now its leader."

Grace didn’t know what to say.

Everything he was saying... was valid. She did have no knowledge of how much time passed while she was in the Vault. Grace didn’t want to believe anything that this man said. All she wanted more than anything was to have her boy, and get out of this place as soon as possible. 

But nothing was that easy. 

Somehow, Grace managed to meet the eyes of the man in front of her. She studied his features, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, recognized the similarities. He had Nate's eyes, of course. Even as a baby. He had his nose, always taking after Nate. In fact, this man looked nearly identical to Nate's father.

Grace let out a deep sigh. 

"It wasn’t... it wasn’t right what they did." Grace finally said. "Taking you from me like that."

"To you, that would certainly seem true." Shaun replied. "But to the Institute... it made all the sense in the world."

Shaun then began to explain everything to Grace. About how taking young Shaun lead to the current Synth model. The fact the Institute needed untainted, human DNA in order for it to be successful. It was a lot for Grace – for anyone – to really grasp. She learned Kellogg had been an asset to the Institute, long before Shaun had become their Director. He had only learned of the things Kellogg had done years later. The Institute had taken advantage of his vicious nature, turning him into something that wasn’t quite human, with all their technology. And asking about Nate, Shaun could only explain his death as mere collateral damage. 

"I think I've heard enough for now." Grace said quietly. 

"Very well." Shaun muttered. "The Institute is on the verge of some important breakthroughs. Your presence would be appreciated as we approach them. I've been a part of something amazing here. I've helped to build a life for myself and the people of the Institute. And now, after all these years, you have an opportunity to help with that. Doesn’t that intrigue you? Isn't that want you want?"

Of course she wanted to help people.

That was why she joined the Minuteman, became their General. That was why she helped rebuild Sanctuary, and made it a place for people to actually live their life not in fear. It was why she joined the Railroad, to help those Synths that deserved to be free.

She wanted this world to be better.

Grace also had her mission in the back of her mind. 

_"Do whatever you can to gain their trust."_

"Yes, that’s what I want."


	24. The Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez. Didn't realize it had been almost 2 months of no update. Life man, gets your mind occupied. 
> 
> Happy to get back into this. Bit of a slower chapter, but happy with it nonetheless.

Deacon didn’t want to admit it, but he was a mess. 

After Grace vanished, the relay had sparked into oblivion, showering down pieces of metal and wires as it came crashing down.

Something nobody had been expecting, not even Tom, who had stood there slack jawed.

So much power had been pulsing through the relay, as soon as Grace found whatever connection, it collapsed. 

Dez had immediately began asking if everyone was okay, but Deacon had just stood there. 

Grace was gone.

 _“Do you think she made it?”_ He'd somehow managed to ask Tom, watching the smoke from the relay fill the air.

_“You know just as much as I do, man. We both saw her vanish. She could be anywhere.”_

And that was what he was afraid of.

Three days had passed, and Deacon was starting to get a little unnerved. They had decided not to try and rebuild the relay, as most of the hardware had been fried, and it would require hunting down all the small parts again. Instead the settlers and agents had started cleaning up the obliterated teleporter. Deacon helped when he could, but the knot in his stomach prevented him otherwise.

On the fifth day, Deacon was getting restless.

All the Railroad agents were, including Dez.

_“It's been nearly a week, Deacon. We can’t stay here for too much longer. We need to get back to HQ. Synths still need us.”_

Unfortunately, she was right.

_“I’ll stay here for when she shows. She'll need a friendly face to see after who knows what she’s experienced.”_

Dez had simply placed her hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.

_“Grace is a tough woman. She’ll come back.”_

And here it was. 

Day nine.

Deacon was beginning to lose hope. 

He had been staying in her bedroom at her house, and he found he couldn’t take looking at her stuff anymore. Every time he looked at anything, his mind raced. 

_Is she alive?_

_Is she dead?_

_Did the Institute imprison her?_

He couldn’t take it anymore. 

He quickly threw together a pack, and gathered some food and purified water.

Dashing out of the house, he slipped the pack over his shoulders. 

For the most part, Sanctuary had returned back to normal. He watched as the citizens did their mundane tasks for the day. The guards standing watch. But he knew they needed their general. His Grace.

And he couldn’t stand to watch their somber faces any longer.

“Hey, Deacon. Where you headed?” 

Deacon stopped and looked up to see

Preston walking towards him from the main gate. 

“Out.” Was all he replied. 

“You okay, man? Grace could be coming back at any moment?”

“Really, Preston? She would have been back by now if something hadn’t of happened. She wouldn’t leave us hanging like this unless something was seriously wrong.”

Deacon didn’t know where that came from.

“I have to get out of here.” He said quickly, walking around him and out the gate. 

He didn’t know where he wanted to go, but he couldn’t stay there. 

 

~

 

He found himself at the gates of Diamond City. Initially, he'd decided to simply go back to HQ, but didn’t feel like he could endure the disappointed faces of Glory and the other agents. He'd considered Goodneighbor, but all he could think about was their first kiss there, and probably one of his top ten favourite nights. So with an aching heart, he’d gone to Diamond City, where he at least had a home, and could be depressing by himself.

He was even successful in avoiding Piper, who had seen him coming down the stairs, but then been distracted by her sister, giving him enough time to slink away in another direction. When he got to his place and closed the door behind him, it felt emptier than usual. Quieter. He’d simply let his pack drop to the floor as he went in further. 

The last time he’d been here was when he and Grace had returned from the Glowing Sea and she had deserted him the next morning. Followed by him worried sick, and finding a bleeding and broken Grace.

_Most likely where she was now._

“Enough!” he snarled aloud, and made his way up to his loft. 

Looking out the small window, he could see the sun starting to set. The journey from Sanctuary to Diamond City was always a long one, no matter how many shortcuts you found or times you’ve travelled it.

The sheets on the bed were folded, and he realized Grace must have made them that morning.

Here he'd thought he would be escaping thoughts about her, but no. 

They came full force.

The last time he had even remotely felt this way, was before he left his old home. Where he and Barbara had been. But then he knew Barbara wasn’t coming back. So this situation wasn’t a whole lot better.

 _Lovely_.

Deacon grabbed his dog-eared copy of Hamlet, and sat down on his bed, flipping to a page.

 

_Act 5, Scene 1_

_**First Clown:** Is she to be buried in Christian burial that willfully seeks her own salvation?_

_**Second Clown:** I tell thee she is: and therefore make her grave straight: the crowner hath sat on her, and finds it Christian burial._

 

Deacon slammed the screenplay shut.

_Oh for fuck sakes._

 

*

 

Grace was mentally exhausted. 

After talking with Father, rather Shaun, she had learned her way around the Institute. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, the place was remarkable. So much technology that they kept hidden underground. 

It was a shame really that they chose to hide as opposed to helping the Commonwealth.  
She had met up with the numerous scientists throughout the Institute. Justin Ago, head of the SRB – Synth Retention Bureau. Clayton Holdren of Bioscience. Allie Filmore , chief engineer. And Madisen Li, who worked in Advanced Systems. There she had a Courser Chip installed in her PipBoy which allowed her to relay in and out of the Institute.

Something that she was still getting used to.

The days passed slowly as she learned about each section. She had to admit it was interesting, but she also had to keep up her façade for Shaun. 

Grace hadn’t forgotten about her mission, of course. In fact, she couldn’t stop thinking about Deacon. Her heart ached for him everyday, and she realized just how much she loved him by her side. 

But she had to remain inconspicuous. 

Which had her going on a mission with Courser X6-88 to bring back a rouge synth, a Raider leader in Libertalia. It had felt like any other day killing Raiders at first, but after they found the leader, and she said his recall code, reality hit.

That was the first mission Shaun had sent her on. The second day she had been there. He sent her on another on her third day there, same scenario, although totally different outcome. This woman had been with the Gunners, and before Grace even had a chance of saying her recall code, the woman had shot herself in the head.

That was enough for Shaun to let Grace take a break from those missions.

Which enabled her to finally meet Patriot. 

Her second day she had managed to find a terminal to send him the encrypted message Tom wrote up. Within moments she had received a reply, telling her it was too risky to meet at this time, but to wait a few days. The first time she went to meet them, one of the scientists had called her to help with an experiment. The second time Father had stopped her to send her o that second mission with X6-88. This was her third try, after being in the Institute for over a week. 

She wandered out of her room, dressed in an Institute jumpsuit. Synths and other scientists waved hellos as she made her way down the stairs. 

_So far so good._

She made her way around the corner where a utility door was open a crack. She feigned looking down at her PipBoy as a Courser walked by. Finally , once the area was clear, she briskly walked to the door, opening it and closing it behind her quickly.

 _Finally_.

She rounded the corner, and there stood a man. She had seen him around the Institute before, with his curly red hair. She thought his name might be Liam. 

“Hey, it’s me.” He said quietly. 

Grace nodded, stepping forward. 

“So you’re the one who sent the encrypted message. How did you even do that? I wasn’t sure anyone from the surface would have a chance to crack Trinity.”

Grace must have had a blank expression on her face for he continued with, “You know, the encryption algorithm.”

“A friend named Tinker Tom cracked your encryption.” She replied

Liam looked impressed. “He must’ve had some serious hardware to pull that off. Wow. Your message was only one word. “Friend". What did you mean by that?”

Grace smiled. “The Railroad sent me to look for someone they call Patriot. That’s you.”

Liam looked surprised. “What? The Railroad? As in the Railroad?”

Grace simply nodded.

“Wow, and they gave me a codename too? I kept sending synths to the surface hoping someone would help them. I hoped the Railroad got to some of them, but I never knew for certain.”

“You’ve saved a lot of synths.”

Liam was beaming. “So much to take in. But, wait. With you in the picture…” he trailed off.

Grace could tell he was excited.

“I have this idea. To rescue a lot of synths at once. But we’ll need help.”

He ended up leading her to the West Atrium of the Institute, not without making sure they weren’t being followed. 

Liam lead her to a man raking at a small patch of grass. “Z1, it’s me.”

The man didn’t look up from where he was raking. “Sir, do you require something?”

“It’s okay, Z1. She’s a friend.” Liam replied, then glanced around, lowering his voice. “She’s with the Railroad.”

Z1 kept his head down. “Meeting here is dangerous. And you bring a stranger. You,” 

Grace realized he’d stopped and was looking at her. “How do I know we can trust you.”

Grace didn’t miss a beat. “Because the members of the Railroad have dedicated their lives to fight for your freedom.”

The synth slowly came around, and soon they were discussing their plans. Z1 knew that at least thirteen synths wanted to escape, and Liam’s proposition was to get them all out at the same time. After much discussion, a plan was decided. Liam needed to hack the security doors to the teleporter room, so the synths could get there.

_Easier said than done._

Z1 agreed, saying they’ll discuss it further in a more secure area. Liam then explained he would need an old-fashioned username and password to be able to access the interface using an old terminal. 

“If you could get me a prewar admin password from the surface, I could log right in.” 

Grace nodded. “I’ll find it for you.”

Liam grinned. “that’s great. Unfortunately, the obvious place to look won’t work. The CIT ruins were picked clean years ago. But some of the admins had to live off campus. Ask your friends in the Railroad. I need those login credentials.”

Grace beamed.

_Looks like it’s finally time to pay my friends a visit._

 

 


	25. The Next Step

_"Like an earthquake, starting to roll. I felt my world shake, out of control. A world war's starting to brew. Baby, it's just you."_ Magnolia's voice filled the dank air of the Third Rail.

Deacon took a sip of the whiskey he had in his hand.

Hiding behind his sunglasses, he took that moment to take in his surroundings. The usual guests were lounging around, already piss drunk and taking in Magnolia. Charlie was yelling at someone to keep their paws away from the goods. It was a predictable night at the Third Rail, which was why he was so hesitant about taking a mission from Desdemona.

Well... more like being forced to.

She, and some of the other agents, hadn't exactly taking a liking to his "moping around" as she called it.

 _"You're scaring some of the tourists."_ She had said, after approaching him after a particularly rough day.

 _"Everyone's afraid of me."_ He had replied.  _"No one knows what I'm going to look like in a week."_

 _"Deacon."_ She had said sternly, giving him  _the look._   _"You need to focus on your job. Fixer will be back. It's only been a week."_

11 days actually.

Not that he was counting.

Which was why he now found himself, slacks pressed and fedora adorned, sipping at a whiskey at the Third Rail. 

All the file Dez had given him had said, was that someone had been rumored to be synth-napping. His job for the night was to watch and see if anyone was acting suspicious. And then report the suspects to the agent who would eventually show up some time later. Apparently, the last victim had been last seen here, and so here was Deacon. They had a known synth Brian, formerly known as F2-98, acting as the bait tonight. 

_Such a high-stakes case._

Deacon had to admit that it was refreshing to be doing his thing again. It had been quite a while since he had run solo, doing some basic recon. It occupied his mind with something other than worry for Grace. He couldn’t really help it – he was a worrier – but a small part of him knew that she was okay. 

And yes, he may have been a  _tad_ mopey when he could bring himself to go to HQ.

So he was thankful for Dez kicking his butt.

He sat in a booth in the far corner of the bar,  to not arouse too much suspicion. He raised an eyebrow as a man slowly started making his way to him. 

"Do you have a Geiger counter?" The man asked, and Deacon breathed a sigh of relief.

"In the shop, my friend."

The man sat down, who Deacon now recognized as Chaser, one of the heavy's that usually ran for Ticonderoga. 

"Good to see you again, Deacon." Chaser said quietly. 

Deacon nodded. "Likewise."

Chaser glanced back at his shoulder as the crowd watching Magnolia clapped and cheered as she started singing "Goodneighbor". "You have any guesses to who our mystery snatcher is?"

Deacon took another sip of his whiskey. "I have a few."

He motioned towards a large man sitting close to the bar. "Mister Muscles over there keeps looking down to his side. Pretty sure he's hiding a pistol there, or he's just happy to see me." 

Chaser rolled his eyes, and Deacon nodded to a couple. "Those two over there have been nothing but handsy since they got here. And they keep looking towards Brian."

"You sure they aren't just looking for a third person to join their party?"

"I've watched the lady glance a few times to Mister Muscles. Most likely a team effort, and they're the distraction while he takes the poor soul."

Chaser nodded. "Bingo."

Now that they identified the suspects, there wasn’t much else for Deacon to do. Chaser had a few others outside keeping an eye on the doors. All Deacon's job was to point a finger in the right direction. He gave the nod to Chaser and finished the rest of his drink. 

_All in a_ _day's_ _work._

_***_

One minute Grace was inside her room at the Institute, and the next she materialized in front of Park Street Station.

She placed her hands on her thighs, as she closed her eyes, fighting back nausea.

She still wasn’t quite used to teleporting. Every time she could feel her insides being twisted around and put back together. 

 _"You'll get used to it."_ X6 had told her. 

_As if._

After a short time, she brought up the report she had written up on her PipBoy. She didn’t dare try to send it back to HQ while she was in the Institute. She had enough worry while hacking into that terminal to get the message to Patriot. 

She added a few notes and sent it to Tinker Tom.

It didn’t take her long to get to HQ. Though she had to take the long way around to go through the back entrance. 

The entire time her mind was on Deacon, and how she couldn’t wait to see him.

HQ was busy with agents milling about. A few looked up as she entered but said nothing. Grace couldn’t help but scan the room for any sign of Deacon, but was interrupted by arms wrapping around her.

"I missed ya, girl!" Squealed Glory as she picked her up in an embrace.

"Jesus, Glory, you're going to crush me!"

Glory immediately set her down. "Sorry, Fix. Sometimes I forget my own strength."

"Good to see you, agent." Said Desdemona as she walked to the center of the room. She cleared her throat and everyone stopped to listen.

"Half of you know this already, but something so big... I can't ask people to keep it secret any longer." 

Glory nudged Grace in the side while she just rolled her eyes.

"The rumor is true. One of our agents has made it inside the Institute."

All eyes were on Grace now, and she felt her cheeks get hot.

"Is this what Tinker Tom was working on?" Asked an agent Grace recognized as Gray.

"Yes, Tom's work is related." Dez replied. "But the device and the assembly was the wanderer's doing."

Grace rolled her eyes.

Some _of my doing._

"After the device was assembled, she made it inside the Institute and then back out."

A few gasps and murmurs erupted through the gathered agents.

"Where is the Institute?" One of them asked. 

Dez glanced back at Grace and she shrugged her shoulders.

"We're not sure exactly. Best guess is that it's somewhere under the old C.I.T. But, they've been using a teleportation device to get in and out. So, it could be anywhere."

"What did she find out?" Someone else asked.

"I know you all have questions, but I've said everything I'm going to. But know this," Dez folded her arms behind her back. "The ops you're planning and running now are the most important of our lives. WE have a chance at rescuing more synths than we ever dreamed of. So get it done."

The agents resumed their business, and Glory clapped a hand on Grace's back, giving her a wink before walking off. Desdemona approached Grace. 

"Excellent work." Dez said and nodded to Tinker. "We've gone through your report. It was... extraordinary. So many pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. Our final analysis indicates the Institute is far more formidable than we ever feared or imagined. If we stage a mass breakout, Patriot's thirteen synths will undoubtedly be the last we ever save. Instead we use this one chance... to rescue all the synths. Every last one of them."

_Holy shit._

"Is that even possible?" Grace whispered.

"Hopefully Patriot's core escape plan will scale up. If it can't, well... we'll deal with it as it comes. The Institute will never let their slaves go without a fight. So the heart of our problem is manpower." Dez began pacing. "Even if we call in all our agents, and we will, we won't be able to hold our own against the Institute for long. Talk with Z1-14. If the synths down there want freedom, they must fight and risk their lives to earn it."

It was a tough call, but the Railroad needed all the help they could in order to get this done.

"Understood." Grace replied.

Dez nodded. "Good. Which leads to a delicate subject. As much as we owe Patriot, we can't be certain how committed he is. If he learns we're willing to kill to free synths he may not have the stomach for it. So get what you need from him and then cut him loose. Good luck, we're all with you."

Grace nodded, and left Dez's side. 

She still needed to find Deacon.

She managed to track down Glory, and asked if she'd seen him.

"He was here just a few hours ago." She said. "Not sure where he could have gone, but he's been disappearing to Diamond City a lot."

Grace smiled. 

She knew exactly where he was. 


	26. The Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say what? Two updates at once? I was a writing machine tonight. Granted this chapter is literally pure smut. Have been looking forward to this moment for a long while. 
> 
> Its 3 am when I post this so forgive me for any errors.

The first thing Deacon did when stepping inside his place in Diamond City was lean back against the door. He removed his sunglasses, rubbing his eyes.

_What a day._

He glanced around his home, and realized that he had let himself go. Clothes and books layered the furniture and floors, and dishes sat stacked near the sink.

He really had lost his shit.

He immediately began cleaning up his place, disgusted at the fact he let himself get this way. He hadn’t been this bad since he lost Barbara. And he had vowed to never let himself get that way again.

Yet here he was.

Two hours and a few beers later, his place was spotless.

 _Now we’re talking_.

Having worked up quote the sweat, he decided a shower would be the perfect thing to end the night. After discarding his clothes and stepping under the lukewarm water, he felt almost relaxed.

Until a loud banging broke his bliss.

“What the fuck?” he said aloud, poking his head out the shower.

It was silent for a moment, and then three loud bangs sounded again. He realized that they were coming from his front door.

“Oh for Christ’s sake.” He growled.

Dripping wet, he haphazardly wrapped a towel around his waist. It wasn’t the first time someone had come knocking on his door looking for someone else. He would have liked to simply ignore it, but this was a time too many for his liking.

He quickly threw on his sunglasses he had set by the sink and stormed to the front door.

“Jackie, or Paul, or Bartholomew isn’t here okay?” He yelled at the door. “Now go away.”

The pounding proceeded, and Deacon was infuriated.

He grabbed a pistol he kept by the door and threw it open.

“I told you, you need to leave.” He snarled, pointing his pistol at the perpetrator.

“Um, Deacon?”

Deacon dropped his gun.

There stood Grace, soaked from head to toe from the rain that he just noticed was pouring down.

_Grace_

_Holy fucking shit_

“Are you going to let me in, or are you wanting to give the neighbors a show?”

He could barely contain himself.

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her inside, slamming the door, and enveloped himself around her. Her arms immediately closed around him and she burried her face in his neck.

“God, I missed you so much.” He mumbled into her hair, breathing in that scent he so missed.

But he then realized she smelled different. Cleaner.

He peeled himself away from her a tad to really look at her.

She looked absolutely radiant. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on her, aside from her clothes being soaked. Her face was absolutely glowing. Excluding the dark circles under her eyes, she looked incredible. Like the day she stepped out of that vault.

“They certainly looked after you in there.” He said softly.

She shook her head, pressing a finger to his mouth.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

Deacon simply nodded, bringing her close to him once more.

“Let’s get you warmed up, sweetie.”

They made their way to the bathroom where Deacon had regrettably left the water running. Fortunately, it now had time to really warm up, and he helped her peel her clothes off of her.

He almost forgot how stunning she looked naked, and he had to force himself to look up from her breasts.

They jumped in the shower together, and he couldn’t help but run his hands down her back as she stood in front of him.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He said softly, feeling her soft curves beneath his hands. He squeezed her hips lightly before wrapping his hands around her waist, pressing her body against his front. He immediately felt his cock stir.

“I missed you too.” She breathed in reply, resting the back of her head against his chest. He raised his hands until they were cupping each of her breasts. He gave them both a small squeeze.

 _Fuuuck_.

He was now fully erect, and the way her ass was pushed up against him, felt absolutely incredible.

Suddenly she spun herself around, and pressed her lips against his. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he groaned against her mouth.

“I thought I might have lost you.” He said in between kisses.

“Shut up.” Grace replied with a bite to his lip. “I’m here now.”

Yes she was.

He knew water was being wasted in the back of his mind, but currently it wasn’t an issue. He cupped her ass, bringing her thigh up to his hip. His cock throbbed as he broke the kiss to move his mouth to her neck, sucking bruises into her skin. He secretly hoped they would show the next day, claiming her as his.  
Her moans filled the already steamy shower, and she untangled her arms from around his neck. Her hand gripped his length, and Deacon practically gasped at the contact.  
It had felt like so long. He hadn’t wanted to touch himself while she was gone.

“Fuck..” He hissed as she began to squeeze her hand around his cock.

“I thought about you everyday.” She said quietly, moving her hand up and down his shaft.

“Me too.” Was all Deacon could grunt in response.

Why was he already so close?

He managed to snake his hand to her front, and found her clit . It was swollen, and Grace gasped as he started to rub it.

Deacon pressed his lips to hers once again, and through broken gasps and touching tongues, they got each other off. Deacon felt himself getting close as he inserted two fingers inside her, reeling at how tight and wet his Grace was already.

Her grip loosened briefly as he found that rough spot and she moaned loudly.

“Oh God yes.” She groaned.

Deacon began rubbing her clit faster, and she let go of his cock completely, unable to do anything else but breath heavily into his chest.

Finally, he felt her squeeze around his fingers as she came, moaning loudly, fingers digging into his chest.

“Holy fucking fuck.” Was all she could say.

 

***

 

Grace was emotionally exhausted as Deacon eventually shut off the water. His cock was still fully erect as they scrambled out of the shower. Before she knew it, he wrapped a towel around her and scooped her up in his arms. She shrieked, clinging to his neck as he kissed her.

God she missed this fucking man so much.

Literally.

He somehow managed to carry her out of the bathroom and through his small space. He was hardly phased as he carried her up the stairs. He gently set her down, and she let her towel drop to the floor.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He said, eyes travelling down her body.

She realized that his glasses had been knocked off and she missed seeing those beautiful eyes.

“You ain’t bad yourself.”she replied with a wink.

Grace swore she heard him growl before he practically pounced on her, his mouth devouring hers.

They somehow managed onto the bed, where Deacon situated himself above her.  
She gripped his cock in her hand before giving it a tug. He groaned, capturing her lips, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. He pushed himself inside her at an agonizingly slow pace, and she cursed mentally when he eventually bottomed out.

_Fuck._

_I missed this._

Deacon began to move his hips slowly, and Grace was absolutely losing it.

“You’re such a fucking tease.” She gasped and he moved his mouth down her chest, running his tongue from breast to her throat.

“I only learn from the best.”

Grace laughed, which made everything feel amazing, and soon Deacon began thrusting harder and faster.

Having already come once, she was still quite sensitive and could already feel her second orgasm surfacing. She gripped the sheets behind above her head as Deacon buried himself deep inside her.

His fingers entwined with hers and her eyes met with his. Blue and green, and bursting with intensity that she rarely ever saw.

_So beautiful._

Grace could feel his cock grow inside her and she knew he was close. She took one of her hands and began rubbing her clit, chasing that second orgasm of her own.

Pleasure exploded from her, and she threw her head back, gasping loudly as Deacon thrusted a few more times before filling her with a loud groan. He pulled out of her still half hard, but collapsed next to her, head resting on her stomach.

Absolutely satisfied, she ran her hand over his bald head, loving how smooth it felt.

They laid there for quite a while, before eventually getting up and dressing into pajamas. Grace slipped on one of Deacons many shirts and a pair of his boxers. He wore the same shirt and some pants. They made the bed before laying down for the night, and they faced each other.

Deacon slowly ran a finger along her features: her nose, her eyes, lips, and cheeks.  
Grace closed her eyes and sighed in content.

“I legitimately thought you were zapped at first.” Deacon said quietly after a few minutes of silence. “It took a lot of reassurance from Tom, though.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch.” Grace replied. “I didn’t know if they would be monitoring my PipBoy or not.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

They lay wrapped in each other’s arms, and Grace had almost fallen asleep when Deacon quietly cleared his throat. “Did you find Shaun?”

Grace had been dreading this question, but knew it was going to come up eventually. She was thankful it was dark because she didn’t think she could meet Deacons eyes.

“Yes.” She said after a long moment.

She hoped he wouldn’t press her further on the matter, but she knew him too well.

“Is he okay?”

Grace took a deep breath. “What I’m about to tell you not even Dez knows, okay? This is just between you and me.”

She felt Deacons chin move in agreement against the top of her head.

“It turns out I was wrong again. About Shaun’s age. At first I thought he was still a baby, but then learned from Kellogg’s memories that he was now ten years old. Well, that was also false.”

Deacon said nothing for once, and it was strange to hear him so quiet.

Grace continued. “It turns out more than sixty years had passed since when I first woke up in that vault. Shaun is now older than me, and the director of the Institute.”

Grace felt Deacon stiffen in her arms.

He was silent for a long moment before finally saying, “I’m sorry.”

And that’s when everything finally caught up to Grace.

Tears immediately began running down her face, and she let out a sob.

“Oh, Grace, honey.” Deacon pulled her tighter to him and she gripped the front of his shirt.

She cried for what seemed like hours, with Deacon saying nothing, simply running his hand along her back as everything she had been through came back all at once.

Eventually her tears dried and she felt herself falling asleep from pure exhaustion. She thought she might have heard Deacon say something along the lines of "It's going to work out, I promise." But was passed out before she could tell for certain .

 

 

 

 


	27. The Cambridge Polymer Labs

Deacon rubbed his eyes as they fluttered open, the sun beaming in throughout the cracks in the wooden walls. He looked down at Grace, who was draped across his chest. He watched as her chest rise and fall, a small smile on her face. 

_God, she is fucking beautiful_.

He couldn’t help himself as he leaned down, pressing his lips to her head. She still smelled fresh and clean from her time spent in the Institute. 

He felt her stir against him, and she let out a sigh, tightening her arm around him. 

They were both still very naked, and being naked Deacon could feel just how amazing she felt pressed against his body. 

He started to stroke his finger along her bare shoulder, and he heard Grace make a small noise. 

“Good morning, beautiful .” said Deacon, kissing her head once more, lingering to take in her amazing scent. 

She opened one eye, looking up at him. “ ‘Morning.”

And in one swift movement, Deacon rolled her under him, straddling her lap.

Grace hardly looked phased, but glanced down at his erect member. “Good morning, indeed.” She said with a raise of her eyebrow.

Deacon just laughed, and leaned down to kiss her.

~

As much as Deacon wanted to spend all day in bed with Grace, he knew that her trip back to the surface was for anything but pleasure.

As they showered and dressed, she filled him in on what she knew so far in the Institute, and the plan that Patriot had in mind. 

He had to admit that it was very risky, but as long as Grace stayed on the Institute's good side, it had a very good chance of working.

Once they reached HQ, they met up with Desdemona at P.A.M’s terminal. 

Grace transferred the file from her PipBoy into the computer and it took all but seconds before it had registered. 

As annoying as P.A.M was sometimes, Deacon had to admit she saved their butts on more than one occasion.

“Preliminary Analysis Complete.” Whirred the Assaultron.

“Anything we need to move on?” Dez asked.

“Affirmative. Code name: Patriot requires admin credentials for Code Defender Security software. Cross-indexing C.I.T Security Administrations with 2077 Commonwealth Census Records.” P.A.M beeped away.

“Filtering by surviving structures. One match found. Bergman, Wilfred, registered as co-owner of Cambridge Polymer Labs. Estimated 81% chance of login credentials being located at this facility.”

Always an overload of information.

“Thanks P.A.M.” said Dez.

The machine whirred, turning to face Dez.

“Compliment detected. Analysis: irrelevant.”

Dez rolled her eyes, leading them back into HQ. 

“After you get the password, report back here. With any luck, we’ll have a game plan by then.”

Both Deacon and Grace nodded, gathering the necessary gear, and headed for Cambridge.

The pair was silent as they made their way around the rundown buildings. Deacon knew that the Labs wasn’t incredibly far away, but they still had a bit of a jaunt to get there. Thankfully they didn’t have a lot of enemies to deal with along the way, only a mutt here and there – even the Raiders seemed to be behaving themselves.

They had headed North first, crossing a bridge, and as they headed West along the river, Deacon couldn’t help but look towards the Greentech Genetics building that he had found Grace at.

He felt himself shiver, remembering her lifeless body on the ground.

So much time had passed since then. 

Soon they were passing the CIT ruins, and Deacon watched Grace as she eyed the area.

There was a pretty good chance that underneath all of this rust and decay was the Institute. It also made Deacon think about the fact that their Father, was in fact Grace's Shaun. He wanted to say something to her, but for one of the first times he could remember, he held his tongue. He knew it was a sore subject. Her son, sixty years older than she was, the leader of the Institute. 

Of all the things she had to deal with.

Eventually, they could see the building that housed the Cambridge Polymer Labs.

Deacon had his eyes on constant vigilance as they neared. He had always hated Cambridge ever since once of the Brotherhood recon teams had taken refuge at the old police station. And even though Deacon knew that they would have no idea him and Grace were in the Railroad, he didn’t want to risk a meeting. The greater distance spent away from the Brotherhood of Steel, the better.

Grace wielded Deliver as they reached the main door of the building. 

"Any idea if it's abandoned or not?" She asked Deacon.

He shook his head. "No idea."

Grace took a breath and they both went inside. 

They were in what appeared to be an old lobby, and instantly they could hear the whirring of a Mr. Handy unit. Guns raised, they stood there as one of them came out from behind a door and drifted over to them.

"Welcome to the Cambridge Polymer Labs." Came a female voice from the robot. "Employment opportunities await in the field of scientific research. Shall we begin your application now?"

Grace looked over at Deacon, a look of confusion on her face.

 _Is this for real?_ She mouthed.

Deacon was just as confused as she was.

"Sure." Deacon found Grace saying. "I'm game."

"Let's begin the interview." Said the robot.

"Due to increased demand for staff in all fields, we have condensed the employment test accordingly."

_This is going to be good._

"Question one: Do you possess previous experience with Polymer Synthesis?"

"Yes." Grace said while rolling her eyes.

"Calculating test results. I am pleased to offer you the position of "Researcher". Expect a bright future in Polymer Research. Would you like the orientation before beginning your work in the labs?"

Deacon just smirked as Grace looked at him for help.

"No," she finally said. "Let's just move it along."

"Due to staffing needs, we can forgo the orientation at this time. Follow me please."

And with that the robot drifted towards a hallway, and Deacon and Grace followed hesitantly. Deacon could only assume that the robot was still stuck in its programming from before the war, but something about it just gave him a feeling he did not like. But he followed behind Grace as the robot went on about refreshments and cigarettes.

The robot then handed Grace a ratted lab coat and half of a clipboard, and Grace simply dropped it on the ground. The robot paid no attention of course, instead hovering over to a terminal and opening a set of doors. 

"Please enter the clean room." The robot demanded. 

Deacon definitely didn’t like this, but Grace obliged, and Deacon had no choice but to follow her in.

As soon as they were inside, the metal doors slid shut, and he just knew that they were now locked inside. 

_God fucking dammit_.

 

***

 

As much as Grace wasn’t exactly proud of her decisions to follow that stupid robot, they would have had to come in this area regardless. It was covered in ferals, which they easily took out. More of an inconvenience as they searched for the username and password. That stupid robot had locked them in there wanting them to complete some sort of project. Her and Deacon, of course, did anything but. Which had them searching through the old rooms and offices in search of the password.  
Eventually Grace had found the password in a desk drawer in one of the offices, after having to take down a pretty violent feral Grace could have only assumed to be the remains of Mr. Wilfred Bergman. 

After having to destroy the remaining active turrets, and that godforsaken robot, Grace and Deacon had managed to get what they needed, incident – free. 

“I think I got a splinter.” Whined Deacon as they made their way out of the building. The sun had set long ago, and the sky was dark. 

Grace rolled her eyes. “You’re fine, Dee.”

“I knew we should have offed that fucking robot from the start.”

“And lose out on all the fun?”

Deacon couldn’t help but smile, and gave her a wink.

They were quiet again as they head back towards HQ. Grace’s heart was heavy as she felt Deacons fingers brush against hers. Now that she had the login credentials, she had to go back to the Institute. She knew that Deacon knew this as well, as they kept sneaking glances at each other. All of them somber. 

They almost seemed to slow their walk entirely as they neared HQ, neither of them wanting to get their, for that was when she knew she would have to head back. 

As soon as they were in the vicinity of the Old North Church, she felt Deacon grab her arm and drag her behind a broken building. He pinned her against the wall, burying his face in her neck. Immediately, she wrapped her arms around him, closing her eyes. 

“I promise I’ll be back sooner.” She muffled into his pompadour. “Or as soon as I can at least.”

She only heard him groan, and soon he was kissing her. 

She returned the kiss, grasping at the lapels of his jackets. His hands clenched into fists against her hips. 

“I cant stand not having you in my sight at all times.” Deacon whispered, breathless.

Grace let out a long sigh. She didn’t want this to be another final goodbye. “That’s sounds a little creepy, Dee.” She half- joked, trying to be like him in these kinds of situations. 

He lifted his head and gave a small, but sad smile. 

“I’m rubbing off on you.”

Grace couldn’t resist. “Not right now, at least.” 

Grace had to clamp a hand over Deacons mouth to refrain from him giving away their position from laughter.

~

When Grace teleported back into the Institute, it was if nothing had changed. The scientists were still milling about, synths still doing their daily routines. Some of them actually smiled and gave a small wave as she walked past them.

She still couldn’t get used to the cleanliness of the Institute, even after being here for the couple weeks she’s been here. 

As she went to find a terminal to contact Liam on when they could meet, she recognized Z1-14 raking once more. 

She couldn’t help but make her way over to him.

“We must speak quickly,” he said, only looking up briefly to see it was her. “We cannot risk being discovered.” 

Grace nodded and situated herself a few feet away from him.

“I have made arrangements.” The synth continued. “I can get the thirteen we discussed into position. But… tell me, do you think Mr. Binet’s plan will work?”

Grace thought of Desdemona. “A better plan is to use this opportunity to rescue everyone. But synths will have to fight for it.”

She watched Z1 shake his head. “And I thought Mr. Binet's plan was too ambitious. Of course I’ll fight for my freedom. And I know a few others that would as well. But enough to face all the guards?” He paused in thought. “perhaps … if we stand up openly to the scientists more of my people would join us. Yes, even if most don’t join the fight, certainly there are many others who’ve been waiting their whole lives for this.”

They both were quiet as a few coursers walked past them. One of them nodded at Grace and said "Ma'am”. 

She nodded back, watching them walk past. 

A moment later Z1 continued. “But, we should be prepared for some of the synths to fight against us.”

“You wont be alone.” Grace said. “The Railroad will fight with you.”

“Together, we have a chance.” Grace could have sworn she saw the synth smile. “I admire Mr. Binet a great deal, but we can’t tell him about this plan. It’s his people well be fighting.”

A scientist walked past, followed by two generation one synths. 

“I will talk to my friends.” Z1 said quietly. “Meet me here tomorrow. If I don’t make our appointment, assume the worst.”

With that she left the synth, and headed back to the terminal. She quickly sent Liam a message saying she needed to talk, and instantly she received one back, telling her to meet one the same spot as before. 

She headed there quickly, and found him already there.

“Liam,” said Grace as she got closer. “I got you your username and password.”

Liam ran a hand through his hair. “Wow, you Railroad guys really deliver, you know?”

Grace handed him the paper, and he instantly pocketed it.

"Hooking that ancient tech up to those modern terminals is going to be seriously time consuming. Even with that password.”

“I know you can do it.” Grace said.

Liam only nodded, but his eyes lacked confidence. “Great, listen. I need a favour. Z1-14 is working in the atrium again. Can you give him an update? Its safer if you do it.”

_If you only knew Liam._

Grace smiled. “Of course.”

 

 


	28. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realized while posting this that I've been working on this story for a year now. Pretty crazy. Feels like yesterday that I just started it . Just wanted to say thank you to everyone whose stuck with me since the beginning and thank you to the new people finding it as well.
> 
> Hopefully it wont take me another year to finish it ;)

Deacon wasn’t exactly thrilled about Grace having to go back to the Institute, but he at least felt a tad better about knowing she was alive.

Although too soon after she had disappeared with that flash of blinding blue light, his heart was heavy. Something that he was still getting used to. 

It had been quite some time since he had a companion he could actually trust. That of course being Barbara, her name still giving him just the smallest inkling of pressure in his chest. He had to admit that since meeting Grace, that pain had dulled considerably. He knew that it would probably never leave. He also knew that Grace’s heart still beat the same for her late husband. The same his did for Barbara.

It was crazy how insanely different yet similar their lives were. He would often forget most days lately that she had been frozen and hadn't had to grow up in this world. That she had just been thrown into it. 

At times he almost envied her, but immediately brushed the thought away. She had been through so much already: witnessing her husbands' death, watching her son get taken from her, and killing the man that was responsible for both.

Grace was such an amazing woman, Deacon couldn’t believe that she had weaved her way into his life. 

As Deacon sat in HQ polishing his weapon, he watched Dez laying down the plan of attack they somewhat devised for the runners that would be in charge. It wasn’t much of a plan yet, considering they still were waiting to hear back from Grace. Only a few days had passed, and this kind of serious mission took a hell of a lot of time and patience. 

But it certainly didn’t hurt to be prepared.

Deacon switched his attention back to his rifle. He could just make out the reflection of his sunglasses staring back at him. 

“Why the long face, Deacon?”

Deacon looked up to see Glory standing over him, her hands resting on her hips. 

“The face is anything but long,” he replied with a small grin. “Or maybe it’s time to pay another visit to the face doctor.”

Glory smirked. “You come back with a different face and Grace will kick your ass.”

Deacon just laughed. He’d gotten used to this old mug for sure. One of his favourites actually, and considering how much Grace liked it he wasn’t planning on changing it anytime soon.

Was it too crazy to admit he might be done with going under the knife?

_Nah._

“Have you heard anything from her yet?” Glory asked.

Deacon shook his head. “Natta. She knows what she’s doing though. She only learned from the best.”

Glory gave a smirk. “You’re certainly taking this second departure of hers a bit more lightly.”

“Because I know she hasn’t been disintegrated in that flash of light when she disappears.” 

Glory just laughed. “If anyone can be the one to knock the Institute on its ass, it's her.”

Deacon smiled. “I know.”

 

***

 

Just as he'd promised, Z1 had been in the same spot as before. Grace would have been lying if she said she hadn’t been the least bit concerned. She had heard some of the Coursers murmuring about some sort of plan, but neither of then had been detained, so she took that as a good sign.

“Z1?” Grace asked as soon as she was within hearing distance.

“I asked my friends if they’d take up arms for their freedom. I was surprised at the number of volunteers. Perhaps once the fighting begins many others will join us. But we will fight and die very quickly unless we have weapons. A lot of them.”

 _Of course._

“Given the right materials we can make our own crude, but serviceable weapons.” He continued. “Unfortunately, were missing a few critical ingredients.”

“What ingredients?” Grace asked.

“Gun powder, laser focusing crystals, and a couple other things.”

Grace thought of the many places on the road that she had stored weapons in case of surprise attacks. “I have weapons I could give you.” She replied.

Z1 grinned. “Excellent. Deposit anything you can spare in maintenance closet 3-B. But we need enough weapons to arm an entire rebellion. So the ingredients are still necessary.”

It was a tall order, but Grace knew it was possible.

“Tell me how I can help.”

“We've come up with a plan to get what we need. The Institute's always expanding. Excavation just completed on one of the sublevels. The mining equipment has been packed into crates, and they haven’t been moved yet. That equipment has everything we need. Thanks to Mr. Binet, the construction crew is populated solely by my friends. But they’re under constant supervision.” Z1 paused, looking around briefly before lowering his voice. “How do you feel about killing some guards?”

Grace inhaled deeply. She knew that it would have come to this eventually. It was a huge risk to take out some synths while in the Institute, all while maintaining a spot on Shaun's good side. So far in her small meetings with him, he hadn't seemed suspicious. 

Her work as a double agent seemed to be faring well.

“I’ll do it.” She replied after a moment.

“Thank you. After you eliminate the guards, well move the supplies and blow up the tunnels behind us. To the SRB it will be a tragic construction accident that killed many synths. Rare, but not unheard of. And then our “dead" friends can assemble the weapons we need.”

It was a hell of a plan, and Grace prayed to God it worked.

~

It only took a few days for Grace to gather what weapons she could for Z1. She had to travel to the surface to do so, but with her newfound ability to relay to an area, it made the entire process a lot faster. She didn’t want to risk a visit to HQ, so she notified Dez and the others of the current plan via a mixture of dead drops and messages to Tinker Tom. She wanted to make contact with Deacon more than anything, but knew she was at a great risk of blowing her cover by doing so.

When the weapons were stored in the maintenance closet, she had made her way down to the construction tunnels, finding multiple synth guards. She had used a Stealth Boy in order to remain as invisible as possible in order to take down the guards one by one. It wasn’t easy, and a ping of regret couldn’t help but snake it’s way into her chest, but it had to be done.

After the final guard fell, Grace switched off her Stealth Boy. Z1 and his friends gathered in the cave, already working on moving the equipment.

Grace watched for a moment, and saw Z1 run over to her. 

He placed a hand on her shoulder, a small smile on his face. “You have done your part. And we'll do ours. Weapon construction will begin immediately.”

“Have any problems?” She asked.

Z1 shook his head. “There's been no alarm. My friends have all the time they need to get what they want and then cover their tracks.”

Grace smiled. “This is a good start.”

Z1 nodded, but his smile faltered the slightest. "The greatest challenge remaining is keeping all of this a secret from the SRB. So we're being very careful. Which, unfortunately, takes time. For now, please continue working with Father. We can't afford him to grow suspicious. When my people are ready, I will contact you.”

And with that Z1 left to join the others.

Taking a breath Grace made her way back to the main floor of the Institute. She took her time, remaining cautious and alert. Z1 said there hadn't been an alarm raised, but anyone could have heard the shots fired. She walked quickly down the empty hall, before exiting swiftly through one of the doors. It opened to the other side of the cafeteria, and Grace managed to make her way by undetected. 

_It’s done._

Grace made her way to the small bedroom Shaun had made up for her. She was greeted by scientists and other synths along the way,

and Grace was relieved. 

She tucked her Steath Boy in one of the lockable drawers, and sat down on the bed. 

Suddenly a small knock came on her door, and she stood abruptly. 

_Oh no._

“Yes?” she asked, pressing a button on the side so the doors slid open. 

There stood X6-88, and Grace’s heart froze. 

“Father wishes to see you, ma'am.” He said.

Grace couldn’t believe it. She'd been caught.

“Oh, um, thank you X6. I’ll be right up.”

X6 nodded, and left without saying another word.

Grace quickly got herself together and made her way up to Shaun’s room.

_Shit_

_Shit._

_Oh God, I’m sorry Deacon_.

When Grace got to Shaun’s quarters, she found him standing by the window, looking down at the plaza beneath him. 

He turned to look as Grace stepped forward.

“Ah, hello mother. Tell me, what would you do when someone has stolen from you?”

Grace’s heart was racing in her chest.

“After everything I’ve been through to find you?” She said after a brief moment. “I think you already know.”

“I’m sorry, mother.” He said, stepping away from the window. “Of course, you’re right. The group that calls themselves “The Railroad" have acquired several synths from the Institute, synths that had gone missing in recent months. They no doubt mean to free these synths, in their delusion that synths are somehow sentient beings.”

Grace stopped breathing.

“You’ve been in contact with The Railroad, so you’re aware of their misguided beliefs.”

Grace had to think fast. 

“They’re crazy,” She said. “thinking machines are alive.”

Shaun nodded. “Agreed. However noble they may believe themselves to be, they are thieves.”

A small piece of Grace was relieved Shaun believed into her lie, but she didn’t like where this was headed one bit

“Usually they are a minor nuisance, but lately they have become more emboldened. I’m afraid we’ve reached a point where a response is necessary. We have learned the current location of these synths, and need to re-acquire them before The Railroad can hide them.” 

_Oh God, no._

“Where are the synths located?” Grace asked.

“A small settlement at the old Bunker Hill monument. But it's important that we act on this soon, before The Railroad has any indication we’ve tracked them. We also don’t want the Brotherhood of Steel getting wind of the presence of the synths. That would only complicate matter."

This whole thing was complicating matters.

“I’ll act quickly.” Grace said. “You can count on me.” The words felt vile in her mouth.

“You’ll have a contact waiting for you just outside Bunker Hill. Good luck.”

Grace turned and immediately headed back towards her room.

This couldn’t have possible got any worse.

 

 


	29. The Battle of Bunker Hill

Deacon was leaning against the far wall in HQ as the agents milled about. He had his arms crossed, and was just watching. It had been a quiet day, unusual as of late, considering how everyone was getting prepared for the inevitable. A battle. For today, people seemed to be relaxing - himself included. Hell, even Dez herself seemed to be in a better mood.  

Deacon knew it was too good to be true. 

 _Calm before the storm_  he thought to himself.  

Just as he was deciding whether or not he should make himself look busy, a bright blue flash blinded him in the center of the room. He raised his hand to shield his eyes, only to lower them and find none other than Grace. 

But something wasn’t right. 

Her eyes were frantic, searching for something. They landed on him briefly before looking away. Murmurs erupted through the crowd as Deacon began to make his way over to her. Grace was still searching until her eyes landed on Dez. 

“What’s going on?” Deacon asked after he reached her, but she shrugged his hand off of her shoulder and stalked towards Dez. 

“Can I talk to you?” Grace asked, voice unsteady. 

Dez looked up from her desk. “Something on your mind?”  

Grace took a sharp breath, and cleared her throat. “The Institute knows about Bunker Hill. They’re planning to re-capture the synths there.” 

Deacon felt his heart thud to a halt. 

 _Jesus._  

Dez swore. “The timing couldn’t be worse. The Old Man's been sitting on those four synths. There’s nowhere else that’s safe we could put them.” Dez rubbed her eyes, and Deacon noticed then the dark circles that bruised the skin under her eyes. "Maintaining your cover is vital – but this..." Dez trailed off. "This sacrifice is too great." 

But Grace didn’t miss a beat. "Stockton and the synths are depending on us. We can't let them down." 

Deacon felt his heart fill with pride. 

 _That's my girl._  

"Well said," replied Dez. "We’ve never known when or where the Institute would strike us next. But now we have a chance to turn the tables." 

"I'll gather some agents, leave a few dead drops, and make our way to Bunker Hill." Said Deacon. 

Dez nodded. "Perfect. And then we wait until the enemy is in position, then we hit them. Hard. No one they send out comes back alive – except you, Fixer. Understand?" 

Grace nodded. "With me working the inside angle, this is do-able." 

"We can't attack too early," Dez continued. "We need to draw them into the kill zone and then spring the trap. You'll know when. You'll probably have a Courser escort. You'll have to take him down. You've done it before, but it'll still be dangerous." 

Deacon and Grace met each other's eyes. They both knew too well what had happened last time.  

"Taking down a Courser," Grace said quietly. "on top of everything else? It's... it's too much." 

"It's a risk, but it's one we have to take. So get it done." 

Deacon knew Grace was fearing the worst – she had nearly died last time if not for him. Grace quickly disclosed the time when she knew the Institute was planning to attack. They only had less than a day and a half to get word to any agents on the road. It would be tough, but with the people they had here, it was possible. 

Dez gathered the agents, calling a meeting, and explained to them the plan. Thankfully with Grace working as a double agent, they would be able to get themselves ready. Any other time and the Institute would have launched a surprise attack. Deacon didn’t really want to think what would have happened to all the civilians that minded their own business in Bunker Hill. 

After the plan was set, everyone dashed around HQ in search of their weapons. 

Deacon grabbed Grace's elbow and lead her off to the side.  

"Oh my God, Deacon." Grace whispered. "What is going to happen?" 

"I don’t know." He replied. "But thanks to you we have time to prepare ourselves." 

"I can’t believe I have to take down a Courser again." 

"You can do it." Deacon wrapped his arms around Grace and pulled her close. "You know what to expect now, and you can catch him off guard. You'll have that to your advantage." 

Grace buried her face in his chest.  

"Besides. I'll be there, fighting alongside everyone. I promise that I will have my eyes on you no matter what." 

"You don’t need to worry about me," Grace said. "Just worry about keeping those synths safe." 

"You can't tell me what to do." Deacon said jokingly, but Grace was right.  

Grace gave a sad smile and leaned up to press her lips to his in a small kiss. 

"Everything is going to work out." 

Deacon nodded, pulling her tighter. 

 _I really hope so._  

 

*** 

 

Today was the day. 

Grace hurriedly dressed in the synth armor that Shaun had given her. It felt cheap and made of plastic, but she had seen the tests done. It was practically impenetrable. It was thin, and a sleek white, so moving around in it was comfortable.  

Somehow, she had managed to sleep the past couple of nights, though not without worry. But she knew that the Railroad would have gotten enough agents rounded up in time.  

She glanced at the time on her PipBoy.  

 _Time to go._  

Grace had received instructions to meet the Courser just outside of Bunker Hill. She decided to relay just past the spot, near the river.  

She didn’t dare relay anywhere closer, not wanting to arouse suspicion. She slowly made her way through the twisting buildings, wielding her rifle. Finally, she spotted the Courser between two buildings.  

"I've been waiting for you." The Courser said.  

Grace could feel the nerves starting to build. She hated every moment of this. 

"Yeah, the line at the car wash was super long. Took me forever." 

"Your attempt at humor is wasted." Replied the Courser. "Our targets are inside. Four synths, under Railroad protection. Majority of the settlement is uninvolved and are expected to run for cover." 

Suddenly Grace could hear the whirring of something big. And it didn’t sound inviting. 

"Is that a...?" she trailed off as none other than a Brotherhood of Steel vertibird roared above them. 

 _Oh fuck._  

That she had not been expecting. 

"The situation appears to have escalated." Said the Courser. "A covert approach is likely impossible. We move in, secure the synths, and relay out with them back to the Institute. Clear?" 

Grace could barely nod when suddenly an explosion rang from close by. Grace covered her eyes as pieces of shrapnel dusted the ground around them. 

 _This was not good._  

She could hear someone yelling orders in the distance, followed by the beginning of gun shots. 

"The mission's parameters just changed. We go in shooting. Requesting back up relay now." 

Grace followed behind the Courser as he wielded his Institute rifle, making his way up to the gates of Bunker Hill. Blue lights flashed around them, and Gen Ones and Twos appeared, dashing in front. 

Heart thumping violently, she watched as Railroad Heavy's made their way out of the settlement, shooting both Brotherhood of Steel and Institute Synths.  

Frantic, Grace fired a few shots at some Brotherhood soldiers, taking them down instantly. There were a few however, that were inside power armor. They seemed indestructible.  

She quickly took cover behind an old car, reloading her rifle. She could clearly make out the Courser taking shots at a Railroad, while trying to avoid shots from a Brotherhood. 

 _This is absolute chaos._  

Grace fired off more shots, this time taking aim at the heads of the Gen Ones and Twos. Multiple exploded in sparks, and thankfully the Courser hadn't yet noticed that it was from her doing. 

She ducked behind as a Molotov cocktail was thrown, an explosion of glass and flames erupting near one of the Brotherhood in power armor.  

She watched as two Railroad began shooting at the Courser, and Grace saw her chance. The Courser had his back to her, currently trying to shoot back at the Railroad agents, so she took aim. Having already taken damage it only took a few shots to the head before the Courser crashed to the ground in a heap of wires.  

 _One small victory._  

Grace watched in horror as another Railroad agent screamed in pain, and fell to the ground, a steady flow of red blossoming around her. 

Furious, Grace dashed out from behind the car, and started firing at more Brotherhood. Somehow, one in power armor fell to the ground, and she took out three more synths. She started to make her way around the perimeters of Bunker Hill, until she was able to get in through a back door.  

She saw more fellow agents laying on the ground, surrounded by bodies of synths and Brotherhood. As much as Grace wanted to scream, she held her tongue. Gunshots still rang around her, so she quickly made her way to the cellar door leading to the secret hideaway of Bunker Hill.  

After climbing down the stairs, she made her way through the tunnels. She could hear more gunshots and lasers echoing around her. She made her way to an opening and sure enough more Brotherhood had made their way inside, as well as a few Gen Ones. Grace fired from the protection of the hole, taking down a couple Brotherhood soldiers. She watched more Railroad fall to the ground, and she took out three synths one by one. 

She dashed into the opening, making her way up the stairs and onto higher ground. 

"Grace!" She turned as she heard her name and saw Deacon with a rifle on the top floor.  

 _Thank God he's okay._  

"Look out!" 

She turned back to see a Brotherhood soldier raising his rifle and bunting her in the head. 

Pain erupted across her temple as she fell to the ground. Gritting her teeth, she spun around and fired a shot right into the man's chest. He fell forward on top of her, and she could feel something warm seeping over her. 

Grunting, she lifted the man off of her, and looked down at disgust. His blood covered her chest.  

She heard one final shot, an explosion of metal, and then the cavern rang silent. 

Grace managed to stand and she looked down at the mess below her. A few Railroad agents stood, hands and faces bloodied but otherwise okay. They erupted into cheers.  

It was over.  

They had won. 

Hardly believing it she turned to see Deacon making his way towards her. 

"We did it!" he shouted, embracing her.

But there was still work to be done.

"Where are the synths?" Grace asked, and Deacon unwrapped his arms from her.

"Follow me." 

He lead her up more metal stairs, before finding themselves in a small room. Four people were huddled in a corner. Three men and one woman. 

"You're safe now." said Grace.

"Oh thank God." said one.

All of them stood straight, but the woman was still shaking. Grace walked over, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's going to be okay."

The woman smiled.

"We'll get somewhere safe as soon as you're gone." Said one of the men.

Grace nodded.

Suddenly she heard a small beep come from her PipBoy. She glanced down and saw that she had a message from Shaun.

Her heart froze, as she opened the message.

 

_Meet me on the roof of the CIT_

_~ Shaun_

 

Grace looked up at Deacon who was looking at her with concern.

"What's going on?" He asked.

Grace showed him the message. 

"Aw, fuck." 

_Aw fuck was right._


	30. The Realization

Deacon took another look at the message flashing on Grace's PipBoy.

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

“Well, I have to go meet him.” Grace replied, closing the message. "He must have found out what happened.”

“There’s no way.” Deacon retorted. “We destroyed all of his synths and that Courser. All he knows is something happened to them. Obviously he wants to know why his plan went South.”

Grace nodded. “You’re right.” But Deacon could tell she was thinking about the worse, as she nibbled on her bottom lip. 

“You don’t have to head there right away.” He said, placing his hands on her shoulders. “He knows you were just in battle."

“True.” 

“Come on, let’s go meet up with the others.”

After making their way back up to the surface, the sight before them was, well something. Bodies of all three parties were littering the ground. It was devastating. After clearing away the bodies, the Railroad had counted a total of five men and four women that they had lost. Countless injured with varying degrees.They hadn't bothered counting the Brotherhood or the synths.

Deacon had looked up to see Grace with her arms wrapped around herself. He knew that she was blaming this all on her.

He walked over to her, watching her eyes follow two agents carrying a stretcher holding an agent. He was cradling his arm and screaming in pain. 

Her reaction to all of this was unexpected, looking back at the Raider attack on Sanctuary months ago. Then again, that had been a different time. But it still confused him.

“Are you okay?” Deacon asked as he approached her.

She was looking up at an area of the roof of the marketplace that was smoking.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Grace, I know you think it’s your fault but-"

“Bullshit. This  _is_ my fault.” She snapped back. “If I hadn't given birth to such a monster-”

“Grace, stop.” Deacon placed himself in front of her. 

He had never seen her act this way and to be perfectly honest...

It scared him. 

“No, Deacon.” She replied and pushed him away. 

He stumbled back in surprise. 

_What the hell?_

“Grace, come on.” He said.

“Shut up, Deacon. Look at how many people have died today, because of me. How many people were injured? All because I gave birth to that man.”

“You had no control-"

“I wish I had of just accepted the fact that I was never going to see my boy again. That he was dead, and gone. Instead, I searched for a boy that didn’t exist and left my heart broken in fucking pieces."

For once Deacon didn’t know what to say.

He was afraid to touch her, for fear of her reaction. But at the same time he wanted to comfort her.  So he stood there instead.

“I have to go.” She said.

Before he could say anything she disappeared in a flash of blue.

That little trick was beginning to really drive him crazy.

***

The last thing Grace wanted to do was go meet her son - no, Shaun. Her son was dead to her. This Shaun was just a man. A vile, cruel man.

This double agent business was tearing a hole in her heart. She wanted nothing more to do with the Institute. But she had made a promise to Dez, to Z1 and his friends. And Liam. They believed in her.

_They really shouldn’t._

Shut up.

She appeared in front of the CIT building, looking up to the roof. She couldn’t see Shaun, so she made her way to the front door.

The interior reeked of mutants, so she flicked on a Stealth Boy and made her way up the stairs. The mutants were silent aside from the odd moaning and groaning. She easily made her way to the roof where she spotted Shaun a distance away, staring out into the Commonwealth. 

She made her way towards him, burying any negative feelings she had towards him deep down.

_So healthy._

Grace approached him, and took a deep breath. “Shaun.” She said.

He was silent for a solid minute. Grace had counted. “You know, in all my years, I’ve never set foot outside the Institute.” He finally said. “Not once, since the day they brought me here. I’ve never had a reason. But now this just confirms the truth I’ve always known. The Commonwealth is dead. There's no future here. The only hope for humanity lies below.”

Grace felt her heart lurch. She looked out to the scene in front of them. The grass no longer green, and trees bare from lack of leaves. Buildings stood in decay, rusted and falling apart, but they still stood.

That was something, right?

“It wasn’t always like this.” Grace somehow replied. “It used to be different.”

Shaun slowly nodded. “I can only imagine. Standing here, I’m reminded of how fortunate I am that I was spared a life in this wasteland. I know that to you, I was kidnapped from that vault. In truth, the Institute rescued me. Both of us, really.”

Grace couldn’t help but clench her fists in disgust.

“They left me on ice… for sixty years.”

“They did, and for good reason.” Shaun looked back out across Boston. “I was the perfect candidate; an infant, with uncorrupted DNA. But if something were to go wrong… if I died...well, the Institute realized a contingency plan was prudent. Another source of pre-war DNA, preferably related to their primary subject.”

_What is this bastard going on about?_

“It only made sense that my parents should fill that role. So, you were kept alive and safe within the vault. I’ll admit, when I had you released from Vault 111, I had no expectations that you’d survive out here, in all this. To not only do so, but manage to find me, to infiltrate the Institute itself… Extraordinary.”

Grace was speechless. They had left her in that vault , as a backup. Just in case something were to happen. She hated every second of it.

“So it was you.” She said after a moment, choosing her words carefully. “You let me out.”

“Yes. It was my decision. Certainly it was no longer necessary to keep you suspended. I, well, I suppose I wanted to see what would happen. An experiment, of sorts. Would the Commonwealth corrupt you, as it has everything else? Perhaps most curious to me… would you, after all this time, attempt to find me? Now I know the answer.”

Grace was livid. 

She couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth.

“That’s all this is to you?” she spat, taking a few steps back from him. “All I am to you… just another experiment?”

“No, that’s not all. But still, I’m glad it turned out the way it did. Soon I hope… I hope you’ll understand. Everything I’ve done has been for the future. A future,” he paused, turning to face Grace. “which I hope is not in jeopardy after recent events.”

Grace’s anger instantly vanished, replaced by worry.

“Bunker Hill did not go well for us.” Said Shaun, a hint of venom in his voice. “Would you care to explain what happened?”

“We were totally ambushed.” She lied. “They were waiting for us.”

“You can imagine that I find that very hard to believe, given that all the intelligence leading up to this indicated we’d take them by surprise.”

“I swear, I have no idea how they found out.”

Shaun simply held up his hand. “Bunker Hill was to cement your place as a valuable asset to the Institute. It will now only raise suspicions. And the see the Brotherhood of Steel involved in this…? They had no way of knowing what was going on.”

That Grace could agree on.

“I will refrain from sharing the outcome with the Directorate for the moment. Things are already in motion that this would only derail. Speaking of which,” Shaun paused and looked down at the watch on his wrist. “Its time for you to become more involved in the future of the Institute. I’d like you to join me inside. The Directorate is meeting, and you should be there. I’ll be waiting.”

Shaun looked back out towards the mess that was The Wasteland. “I’ve seen enough. It’s time to go back in.”

He vanished in the all too familiar blue light, leaving Grace alone on the rooftop. 

She felt her body shudder and she collapsed to her knees. 

_What am I going to do?_

 


	31. The Directorate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if there are spelling/grammatical errors. Really wanted to get this posted and its late.

Deacon was tired.

After Grace had vanished into thin air, he had helped the rest of the agents clear out Bunker Hill. There had been a lot more damage than he initially thought. Thankfully none of the settlers and caravans had been killed. A few had been injured, mostly sprains and a few burns but otherwise okay. Deacon had also helped the four synths find High Rise, who had lead them to Ticonderoga. 

The sun had long been set by the time the bodies had been burned and the debris had been cleared. The Railroad agents who had passed were given a proper burial. Deacon had recognized a few but hadn't been incredibly close with any of them. 

It had been a long day.

Everyone else had been instructed to head back to HQ for debriefing, but Deacon had other ideas. He made his way to Goodneighbor instead. He needed something strong, and quick.

The Third Rail was bustling as it usually was, with Magnolia singing away and patrons loudly drinking and playing pool.

Deacon walked up to bar and asked for a whiskey which Charlie slid down. He threw Charlie some caps and headed towards the back of the bar, settling in a booth that miraculously was empty. 

He took a long swig, setting the bottle down with a thud.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the infamous Deacon.” Came an all too familiar voice.

Deacon mentally groaned as he watched the sniper slide into the seat opposite him. “Still killing people for caps, MacCready?”

“I dunno.” He replied with a smirk. “You still pretending to be anyone but yourself?”

Deacon lifted his bottle in response.

“Touché." 

The pair drank and both set their bottles back on the table. 

“What’s this I hear about Bunker Hill?” MacCready asked. 

“No comment.”  
“I heard the Institute was involved, as well as the Brotherhood.”

“People sure like to talk around here.”

“Yeah yeah. Don’t tell me then.” MacCready readjusted his hat. “Speaking of talk, where's that dime piece you had hanging off your arm? Heard you guys have been inseparable.”

Deacon paused briefly, the tip of the bottle hovering at his lips. 

It wasn’t like him and Grace had been a secret. Word was sure to travel about a vault dweller locking lips with a secret spy. 

But here he'd been trying to forget about the unfortunate instances of the evening, and she just happened to be a part of it.

“Not here.”

Deacon watched MacCready roll his eyes. 

He didn’t necessarily hate the merc, but they were far from friends. He was way too damn nosy sometimes.

“I get it, trouble in paradise.” MacCready stood and slid out of the booth. “When she dumps your lying ass, point her my way.”

Deacon watched the merc make his way back up to bar, and Charlie started yelling at him that he was cut off.

Deacon downed the rest of his whiskey.

 

***

 

Grace made her way up the stairs, before heading into the room that the meeting was being held. Once the doors slid open, all eyes were on her. She recognized the leaders of each division of the Institute: Doctors Li, Ayo, Filmore, and Holdren. They all look surprised apart from Dr. Ayo who looked at her like she was insane. 

“Good, were all here.” Shaun said, as he sat at the head of the table. Grace walked into the room taking a seat near him. “I think it’s time we begin.”

Dr. Ayo leaned forward in his seat. “Sir, excuse me but…” he glanced at Grace. “What exactly is she doing here?”

Grace frowned .

 _Up yours too, pal_.

“I will address that issue, but there are other subjects that require our attention first. The level of unrest in the Commonwealth continues to rise, as were all aware.” He looked towards Dr. Filmore. “Your report?”

The woman cleared her throat. “All Institute facilities remain completely secure, with the… exception of one notable breach.”

Grace immediately thought of the day she helped the synths take out the guards in the construction zone. Her chest tightened. 

“Otherwise, internally things are as tight as they’ve ever been.” She continued. “Dr. Ayo has been keeping an eye on things topside.”

“Ah yes…” the man replied. “Watchers show no additional threats beyond those previously identified.”

Grace felt wrong sitting there.

“Boston International Airport remains occupied,” Ayo continued. “with Brotherhood presence noted at several other points through out the Commonwealth. Intelligence suggests that this “Railroad" continues to operate, and is becoming more…” he chose that moment to look directly at Grace. “Ambitious.”

She felt her heart thud in her chest. There was no way that he could know. 

Absolutely not.

“SRB agents are monitoring all known situations, sir.” He finished.

Grace looked to Shaun. “Very good, thank you.” He replied. “Its clear that our safety needs to be the primary concern going forward. To that end, where are we on Phase Three?”

The scientists each exchanged looks with each other, before settling on Grace.

_Did I mention I didn’t want to be here at all?_

“Uh, sir.” Dr. Li chimed in. “Are you sure this is the time to be discussing it? Given… well, considering all parties present?”

“Ah yes, that’s true.” Shaun turned to Grace.

“Have you heard anything about Phase Three?”

Grace looked at the others before shaking her head. “I have no idea what that is.”

“I’ll admit, I’m relieved.” Replied the man. “its intended to be something of a classified project, which I’m sure means everyone already knows about it.” 

The members quietly chuckled to themselves and Shaun continued. 

“Power is, as I’m sure you’ve seen above ground, a very valuable commodity. I’m not talking about some abstract concept of control, I mean real tangible power. The kind that keeps the lights on. With every advance the Institute makes, our need for raw power increases. Many compromises and sacrifices have been made over the years to allow progress to continue.”

“What kind of compromises?” Grace asked. 

“We have, at times, had to rely on drawing power from above ground installations. It risks personnel and equipment. But no longer. Phase Three is, simply, the activation of a Nuclear reactor that can provide enough power to the Institute now and forever. It will ensure not just our survival, but our prosperity.”

Grace stared at the man, mouth open.

_Was he serious?_

“Woah, Nuclear power?” Grace sputtered. “That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

_Had nobody learned in the past 200 years?_

“Not in our hands. I assure you, this is the answer. This is the future. The reactor is close to ready, but recent tests have determined we have a few tasks ahead of us. Thus, we come to Phase Three. And to how you will help.”

“Sir?” Dr. Ayo asked.

“Yes, Dr. Ayo. Previously we would rely on Kellogg for above ground operations, yes? Well, he is gone.”

Grace looked down to her chest. 

_And I would do it again._

“While I am not overly fond of putting my own mother in harm’s way, she has proven more than capable of handling herself.”

“Yes, but…” Ayo tried.

“This is not a matter for debate. Now, there is one more subject that requires discussion.”

“I don’t know that this is the time…” said Dr. Holdren.

“Dr. Holdren, it is time. Please.” Shaun let out a sigh. “As I’m sure several of you are already aware, I have been under Dr. Volkerts care for some time.”

He paused, closing his eyes briefly. Grace could tell he was struggling with something.

He repositioned himself in his chair.

“I’m sorry, this is… difficult for me.”

_What was going on?_

“Our best efforts have failed. Every experimental treatment we could devise has been unsuccessful. I’m… sorry to say I am dying.”

What.

There was a collective gasp around the room.

“What?”

“You cant be serious!”

Grace was speechless.

“Please, everyone. Please!” Shaun nearly stood out of his chair. “I am sorry. This is not how I’d wanted to tell you, but were running out of time.”

Grace somehow managed to find her voice. “You’re… dying?”

Shaun nodded. “I’m afraid so. A very aggressive form of cancer. Believe me when I say we’ve done everything we can. We can talk more later. Right now, the future of the Institute is at stake. The Institute cannot survive without leadership. The Directorate must continue to govern with the best interests of all in mind. To that end, I am naming my mother as my successor.”

Grace couldn’t believe her ears.

There was a collective of outbursts.

“Oh boy…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Really?”

“Seems a poor choice.”

Grace wanted to relay out of there more than anything.

“How can you possibly justify this?" shouted Ayo. “She isn’t one of us… she isn’t even a scientist!”

Shaun furrowed his brows. “ignoring your borderline insubordinate tone, I will simply say this. The Institute has enough scientists. What it needs is a leader. I believe my mother has already proven herself more than capable in that regard.” He sat a little straighter in his chair. This will conclude this meeting. Thank you.”

Grace could see that the scientists wanted to say more, but they listened to Shaun. They each left the room silently, leaving Grace alone with Shaun.

“I had no idea…” she said quietly.

Shaun placed a hand over top of hers. “I know this is… well, it’s a lot to take in at once. I’m sorry, mother. I hope it wasn’t too presumptuous of me to put you in charge without even asking first…”

_If you only knew._

“I don’t know if I’m right for this.” She went along.

“Well, I clearly have faith in you. There's no question that some of the Directorate, and the institute at large, will need reassurances about your appointment. That’s why I’d like you to take charge of this latest operation.”

He lifted his hand off hers. “Dr. Filmore can fill you in on the details.”

Shaun stood finally, dusting off his lab coat. He made his way to the door, Grace still seated at the table.

“There are hard decisions ahead.” He said. “For all of us, but for your especially. I know that you’ll do the right thing.”

With that he finally left, the doors sliding shut behind him.

Grace placed her face in her hands, closing her eyes.

Things couldn’t have gotten any worse.


	32. The Many Tasks At Hand

A few days had passed since the Battle at Bunker Hill. Although the injuries had been dealt with, and the broken structures had been repaired, a heavy worry lingered in the air. Everyone was concerned regarding The Brotherhood of Steel and just how they had managed to catch word of the business going down at the settlement. The Railroad was already on high alert regarding Grace’s plan at reclaiming the synths inside the Institute. Now they had the Brotherhood to worry about. 

It was a lot, but it was nothing Deacon couldn’t handle.

After his night of drinking at the Third Rail, and paying HQ a visit, he had decided to help High Rise with the four synths. He’d already spent a few days at Ticon, and it was starting to feel like home.

Except that he was still very concerned about Grace.

High Rise had caught him being particularly moody one day, staring out the window overlooking the city. 

_“What’s going on, man?”_ he had asked. _“You have been pretty quiet lately, and that does not sound like you.”_

Deacon had been taken off guard, spinning around to face the man.

_“Oh you know, thinking about the future of humanity and what have you.”_

He couldn’t help but think back to a conversation he’d had with Grace what seemed like moons ago. Back before all of this insanity had occurred. She had said something similar.

_“Who isn’t thinking about that? You’ve been this way since getting here. Something happen between you and Fixer?”_

Why was everyone so concerned about him and Grace lately?

They were fine… right?

 _“We are fine.”_ He had replied. “ _It's her I’m worried about.”_

High Rise had simply nodded. _“It’s a shame she has to work both sides. I couldn’t imagine being in her position.”_

Deacon nodded his head in response. He hadn't really thought about it that way. Any time he had to work as a double agent, it was like second nature. It was just a job. But this was more personal for her; her son being the director of the Institute and all.

_Maybe that was why she was so upset._

Deacon had looked up back to High Rise to thank him but saw that he'd already left.  
Now, he was back at the same window, day four since seeing her, and now he simply missed her.

“I hope you’re doing okay, beautiful." He said quietly.

"Deacon!" 

Deacon turned and saw another agent Whisper headed towards him.

"Got a message from Dez. You're needed back at HQ."

Deacon sighed, standing up from leaning against the window. 

_There was always work to be done._

***

Grace and Allie Filmore appeared with a flash back inside the Institute. They’d relayed back into the room where Grace had first appeared. 

“Well, I think that was enough excitement for… well, ever.” Said the doctor. 

Truer words couldn’t be spoken.

After Grace had left the meeting, she had spent the next couple of days thinking about what she was doing. Working as a double agent was taking a toll on her, and as much as she hated everything Shaun and the Institute stood for, she found herself enjoying her time there. She would spent time in the cafeteria mingling with the other people there. She had caught herself laughing with the other on multiple occasions and she had to keep reminding herself not to get too attached. 

She didn’t know what the final outcome would be, but knew both factions couldn’t co exist. Which left the inevitable, and she didn’t really like to think about that.

Earlier in the day, Dr. Filmore had stopped her in the hallway, asking her about the newest operation: retrieving the nuclear reactor from Mass Fusion.

She hadnt been expecting it to be easy, but she had definitly not been expecting the army of Brotherhood soldiers that had them surrounded when relaying to the roof of the building. 

The pair of them had somehow managed to take every one of them out, including the ones in power armor. Grace had been supplied with the latest in laser rifle technology, so it made doing so much easier. But they both shared a considerable amount of burns from the Brotherhoods own laser weapons.

Grace had decided she wasn’t particularly fond of them.

They’d managed to get through the building into the basement where the reactor rested, taking out more and more Brotherhood.  
What they were not expecting was the Sentry Bot and Assaultrons that they had to deal with after claiming the reactor.

So yeah, after dealing with Bunker Hill and now this… Grace was ready for a vacation.

“Thank you, really.” Allie continued. “Couldn’t have managed it without you. I’ll make sure the agitator gets where it needs to go. I understand Father is anxious to get you involved in something else. You’d better not keep him waiting.” 

Grace faked a smile and nodded. 

_Jesus. Give a girl a break._

She went to her quarters first. That bastard could wait. She needed a shower.

One of the few things that Grace enjoyed in the Institute was their showers. Their water pressure was amazing, and you could have the perfect temperature every time. One of the luxuries she missed from back in the day.

After drying and slipping on an Institute jumper, she tied her hair in a braid. It had grown so much since unthawing from the Vault, it was past her shoulders. Long enough to throw into a small bun and a French braid. 

Reluctantly she made her way up to Shaun’s room and found him reading a book on his sofa.

“You wanted to see me?” Grace asked, standing with her arms crossed.

“I understand Mass Fusion was a success.” Shaun said, setting his book to the side. “Despite interference from the Brotherhood of Steel.”

“We handled them just fine.” Grace replied.

“That’s what Dr. Filmore reported.”

Damn, that woman worked fast.

“I’m quite pleased at the results; it would have been a terrible setback to lose that technology to those savages.” 

Grace zoned out as the man rattled on about the Brotherhood and how they abused technology. Yatta yatta yatta; they’re bad. 

_Already knew that courtesy of The Railroad._

Which had Grace thinking about Deacon.

“… it also cannot go unnoticed that there were… concerns within the Institute about your allegiances.” Grace’s attention was brought back to Shaun. “I, of course, never doubted your commitment to our cause, but by directly confronting the Brotherhood, I think you’ve put some others at ease.”

_They shouldn’t be._

“I’m proud of you.”

Grace instantly felt guilt rush through her and plastered a fake smile on her face. She was doing that a lot lately.

“Regardless, the Brotherhood is an issue for the future, and we must focus on the present. And look at me, rambling on like the old man I am. I’m wasting time. You’re needed elsewhere at once.”

“I only just got back.” Grace sneered. “Now what?”

“I understand but we have a problem. This situation, I’m afraid, is something of your creation, however unintentional.”

Grace furrowed her brows. “What do you mean by that? What happened?”

Shaun began to explain that while she was at Mass Fusion, another team was sent to the Commonwealth to “invite" someone to the Institute, but had called for help in a situation of miscommunication, wherein the Minutemen had showed up.

Grace didn’t blame the guy.

“I need you to go there, and speak to your Minutemen gathered outside. Insist that they stand down at once. Dr. Thompson is onsite, and he will be your primary contact. I know you can resolve this situation. But it is of paramount importance that this special individual be brought to the Institute immediately.”

Grace let out a quiet sigh. “They’ll listen to me; I’ll figure something out. You can consider this handled.”

“Believe me,” Shaun replied. “I already do.”

 

 


	33. The Interference

Deacon was bored. 

He had thought being called to HQ would give him something to do, but Dez had just wanted to clarify the plan with everyone who was involved. He had leaned against the back of the wall, feigning multiple yawns the entire time.

After the plan had been repeated - Dez wanted to make sure when the time was right  _everyone_ knew what to do - she called him over.

“What’s up, boss?” Deacon asked. 

_If_ _this is some mundane mission again, so help me…_

“Deacon. There’s been word of a situation near the Greygarden homestead.” Dez said. “I want you to go there and give me any information you can find.”

_Greeeeaaat_ _._

At least it was something to do.

“Consider yourself informed.” Deacon gave Dez a salute. 

She rolled her eyes at him, and busied herself with more reports.

It didn’t take him long to get there. It was midday, and he knew a few short cuts, which had him scouting the area with his binoculars in no time. He recognized the Minutemen instantly, immediately thankful he had a duster and hat handy for the occasion. They wielded their muskets outside, and he looked to the small building, not being able to recognize the men guarding the door.

He got himself dressed in his Minuteman disguise, carefully making his way to the small group outside.

“Sorry I’m late guys.” He said nonchalantly, wiping his forehead. “Tripped on a rock back there and fell behind.” 

The Minutemen looked him up and down with bewilderment.

“It’s okay, man.” One of them replied.

Deacon grinned.

_Never gets old._

Suddenly the group had their attention switched to someone coming down from the hill. Deacon squinted his eyes to try and make them out. As they got closer, he furrowed his brows in confusion.

_That couldn’t be…?_

“General.” One of the Minuteman said.

_Oh boy._

“What’s going on here?” Grace asked, approaching the group. 

Deacon melted behind someone, really hoping she wouldn’t recognize him.

“You’re an unexpected surprise.” Another man said. “We could use the back up. These Institute bastards aren’t getting away; they’ll have to go through us to get out of there.”

_Ahh_ _, so the Institute is involved. Of course._

“We don’t know quite what were up against, but it’s good you’re here to help.” The man paused, and tilted his head to the side. “How… how did you hear about this?”

Deacon watched Grace and she ignored the question effortlessly. “Can you bring me up to speed on the situation?”

The man looked at her quizzically, but responded. “Commonwealth citizen lives in that there observatory. Institute thugs showed up to haul him off, only he spotted them coming. He managed to fire off a flare gun, got our attention. And we got here quick as we could."

_Bingo._

"So, how do you want to play this?" The same man asked. "We thought about trying to lure 'em out here, since it'd be easier to kill them... but then we realized we probably ought to storm the place, to make sure they can't disappear on us."

_Jesus. Who put this guy in charge of the plans?_

"That makes sense, right?" He continued. "So, you want to lead the charge?"

Deacon watched Grace as she looked over the group. Her eyes passed over him, and his heart thumped violently. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to recognize him.

"Have your men hold their ground." She said sternly. "I’ll go in and assess the situation."

Christ, he missed her.

The Minutemen looked at her and each other in confusion.

"I don’t think that's a good idea, ma'am." The leader said. "We have to act now, or else we risk not only letting them get away but taking one of ours with them. I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone. Are you gonna lead us in there, or what?"

Deacon could see the strain on Grace's face. It made him want to grab her and take her away from all this madness once and for all, to a place where they could just... be.

"I'm giving you an order, soldier." She said coldly.

"Maybe you don’t understand." The man said. "This 'aint the military, and I don’t have to take orders from you. Why are you so against this? You do know which side you're on, don't you?"

Deacon saw Grace bite her lip and let out a long sigh.

"Listen: you don’t have all the information." She replied quickly. "I do, and I'm telling you this isn't what it looks like. That man's not in danger."

The Minutemen exchanged glances with one another, and Deacon couldn’t help but wonder just what kinds of things Shaun had Grace doing. He didn’t like it one bit.

"You'd better be right." The Minuteman replied. "If you're not, that man's life is on your head. I'll have my men stand down, but you'd better get in there... and make sure you're right."

Deacon watched as Grace nodded and turned towards the building.

***

Grace felt sick to her stomach. 

She hated lying to her men. It had been ages since she had been back home to Sanctuary and she wished that she could explain what was happening to Preston. She knew that this group would report it back to him, and she had no idea what he would say about it. 

She started walking towards the building, and couldn’t help but look behind her. 

Sure enough her suspicions had been correct, and she recognized Deacon amidst the group of men. After weeks of him following her around the Commonwealth, he just stuck out like a sore thumb if you knew what to look for.

_What the hell was he doing here?_

She had to resist the urge to confront him, to apologize to him about the way she'd acted after the battle. She really hoped he didn’t hate her. But right now she had other things to worry about.

She knocked on the door, and after a moment it opened roughly. She was quickly ushered inside.

"Oh, thank God you're here." Exclaimed a man. He was wearing a full hazmat suit. Grace looked around and saw two others wielding laser rifles also dressed in a similar suit. "I was starting to worry we might not make it out of this mess."

Grace just wanted to get this over with. "How exactly did this happen?"

"I'm not suited for field work." Replied this man. This must be Dr. Thompson. "I've said that over and over... and they sent me anyway. There was no indication that Wallace had been in contact with anyone, or was aware that we might be watching him. If I'd known, I'd... I don’t know, maybe I'd have tried to handle things differently. I know he's potentially important to Phase Three and all, but I'm not sure it's worth putting ourselves in harm's way."

"If he's really important to the Institute," Grace replied. "then it's worth it."

The doctor sighed. "You're right, I suppose. I know they've been keeping an eye on him for years. Not sure how they originally found him; but probably don't want to know." 

Grace didn’t want to know either. 

"But once they realized how smart he was, and what an asset he could be for Phase Three, they watched pretty closely. I think they even fed him scientific materials from time to time, to see how good he was. You know, testing him. To see if he was Institute material."

_To see if he was Institute material._

The whole thing made Grace sick.

"Let's just get Wallace and get out of here." The man finished.

Grace was confused. "What do you mean "get Wallace"? You don’t have him already?"

"I know..." The doctor trailed off. "There's just... well, there's a slight problem with that. He doesn’t want to go with us. I was thinking maybe you could try and talk to him."

This wasn’t making Grace's job any easier.

She signed. "No problem. I'm sure I can get him to see reason."

"I hope so. We really need him."

Grace walked over to the door that the man had locked himself in. "Mr. Wallace?" She called, knocking on the door lightly. "I'm here to talk to you."

"You’re another one of, of  _them,_ aren't you?" He exclaimed from behind the door. "Are you a robot?"

Grace closed her eyes briefly. "Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I'm not a robot."

"That's exactly what a robot would say!"

_This was going to be a long day._

"I've heard all the stories! I know exactly what happens to people when the Institute shows up, well, it's not happening to me!"

_Wish this didn’t have to happen, buddy._

"Hey, hey, just calm down okay?" Grace replied. "I just want to talk to you."

It was silent for a moment. And with her ear pressed against the door she thought she could hear a faint sigh. 

"Fine. Fine... what do you want from me?"

"The Institute needs your help, Mr. Wallace. It's as simple as that."

_Not quite, but you know._

"My help?" The man asked. "… with what?"

Grace waved over Dr. Thompson and he moved to the door. "The Institute has an Engineering problem that your scientific expertise could solve. In exchange for helping us out, you’d be granted access to the most advanced research facility imaginable. Whatever research you wanted to perform... anything. It's possible there. I promise. You'd be safe and secure in a way that's completely impossible here."

Grace took a breath. "Look at your future, Wallace. This is a way to secure it."

It was silent for a long moment. Grace looked at the men around her. Dr. Thompson raised his eyebrows in a  _"What's going on?"_ expression.

Finally, Wallace replied. "I suppose that's... one way to look at it. Okay. Fine... I'll go."

The door opened and a small wiring man stood behind it. One of the synths walked over to him and explained the process of relaying. He looked slightly terrified.

"You must be pretty excited, being named the next Director." The doctor said, walking over to Grace. She said nothing. They watched as Wallace started to calm down, nodding to the synth.

The doctor sighed. "Okay, I think we've got this under control now. Thanks... I mean thanks for the assist."

_Assist? I pretty much did everything._

"Hey, I'm here to help." Grace lied. "You're welcome."

"I really mean it. I owe you one." The doctor walked over to the other synth, and the synth placed his hand on his shoulder. "I'll see you back at the Institute." 

Seconds later all four men vanished in a flash of blue. 

Grace let out a huge breath and wiped at the tears that threatened to fall. 

She needed to talk to Deacon.

She exited the building and found that the group of Minutemen, including Deacon, were already gone. She knew that he would only follow them a certain distance, before ditching them and the disguise, and reporting back to Desdemona.

_HQ it is then._


	34. The Fall Of Ticonderoga

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still here. This fic has not been forgotten. Thank you to everyone whose been patient. Hoping to have more regular updates as this fic is nearly finished. Thank you.

It was just getting dark as Deacon made his way back to HQ. He couldn’t help but think back to when Grace looked back towards him. Their gaze had locked briefly, and he had watched her mouth twitch.

She knew

She had to.

Sure his disguise would have fooled anyone else, it certainly fooled that group of Minutemen. They probably thought he was still with the group. He was _that_ un-noticeable. 

It was the glasses. 

He really needed new ones. 

He made his way towards the back entrance of HQ. An area he could maneuver with his eyes closed. He was less than a block away when a small movement in the shadows caught his eye. 

He quickly pulled out his pistol and spun to face the noise.

“One of these days you’re going to shoot me with that.” 

His heart stammered to a halt, and he holstered his gun. 

“Yeah, well if you would stop sneaking up on me. I thought that was my job.”

Deacon watched Grace step out of the shadows from leaning against the building wall. She took a few steps toward him. 

“You must be losing your touch.”

They stood there silently, Deacon looking down at her. He wanted to give her space, still thinking back to the incident at Bunker Hill. It had been a few days now, having only seeing her for the first time earlier. He wanted to be cautious.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Same thing as you, I imagine.” She replied. “Reporting back to Dez.”

Deacon just nodded. “Let’s get out of the open.”

He placed his hand at the small of her back, guiding her towards HQ. He knew perfectly well that she was capable of finding it herself, but it had felt like weeks since he had touched in her any way at all. Even something so simple as a hand on her back had him feeling relieved. For the moment she was here; she was safe. 

They didn’t talk at all as they made their way to HQ. Deacon had a million different questions he wanted to ask her, but she knew she would be telling Dez most of them. 

They walked side by side, and he felt their fingers graze against each others frequently. 

He couldn’t help but glance at her every so often. She certainly looked okay, physically at least. Emotionally… well, that was another story. Being in The Commonwealth didn’t exactly help with ones sanity. And all of the extra crap piled on for her was extra unpleasant.

HQ was buzzing as usual when they entered through the catacombs. Agents were dashing left and right, sifting through supplies and ammo. The environment made Deacon relax. 

They started to make their way to find Dez when Drummer Boy walked up to them.

“Hey,” he said quickly. “Dez is looking for you.”

Deacon placed his hands on his hips. “I’m not that late at reporting back, am I?” 

Drummer Boy looked at him with a stark expression. “It’s not about the Minutemen.”

Deacon froze briefly.

 _Shit_. 

Something was wrong.

They quickly found Desdemona and the stress framing her face was all too visible. 

“We’ve got an emergency.” She said as soon as they were within earshot. Deacon glanced down at Grace finding her concerned eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Glory spotted a Courser near Dayton Safehouse. We were hoping Bunker Hill bought us some time. But the Institute's continuing to dismantle our operation.”

“Can I lend a hand?” Grace asked.

Dez nodded. “Yes. Ticonderoga Safehouse has gone dark and I need you to check it out. Hopefully, this is a milk run. But if you do find a Courser there, kill it. If there are no survivors, then your cover remains intact.”

Grace slowly nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Get to it then.”

Deacon and Grace turned from Dez before walking to their bunks to grab any necessary gear.

“Do you think Ticon is okay?” Grace asked as she rifled through her pack.

Deacon thought of High Rise. He was a good agent. He would have things under control, right?

“I’m sure they’re just playing canasta in the candlelight.”

Deacon watched Grace roll her eyes, and soon the pair departed for Ticonderoga.

 

***

 

Grace didn’t like the feeling of it at all. After approaching the building, they stopped to listen, and it was far too quiet. Eerily quiet.

They made their way to the elevator, and the doors opened with a ding.

“I don’t think you should come up with me.” Said Grace. She looked up at Deacon. “They’re not going to be expecting anyone with me and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Deacon rolled his eyes. “You don’t know me by now? I’ll be fine. Say I’m your body guard for when you come to the surface.” He nudged her shoulder and gave her a wink. “Which is pretty much the truth.”

Grace sighed and motioned for him to step in first. “I know you love to talk but leave the talking to me. They’ll know who I am.” 

Deacon agreed, and they made their way to the top floor.

Grace couldn’t help but feel her heart beat steady in her chest. She had no idea what the status of Ticon could be, and she was hesitant to find out. But it was far too late for that.

The doors opened to what she could only describe as a scene straight from a horror film.

Bodies were deserted on the ground, laying in pools of dark blood. Stains littered the walls and the ceiling. It was devastating.

Before she could even process what had happened, a Courser walked towards her.

“Intruder identified. This is a restricted area. Your arrival wasn’t in the mission briefing. This irregularity will be reported to Justin Ayo.”

Grace’s heart stopped.

_Time to think fast._

“The SRB sent me to check on you. See if you need help.”

The Courser looked at her for a moment that seemed entirely too long. 

“Mission proceeding according to plan. Ambush set for Railroad targets. Prepared to reclaim any synths they possess.”

Grace nodded, feeling the rifle in her hands tremor slightly. She gripped her gun tighter.

She somehow managed to take a step forward out of the elevator. She heard Deacon follow suit. She had no idea how he was reacting to this, but she knew one of the few people he was close to was High Rise. 

“This man isn’t authorized to be in here.” Said a synth to her right.

“He’s with me.” She replied. “Father wanted me to have a protector when I was on the surface.”

She was unable to read the synths metal features, but after a moment it left them wordlessly.

Relieved, they proceeded farther into the room. Grace counted two Gen 1’s and the Courser in their immediate vicinity. She kept her eyes peeled for more upstairs, but couldn’t see or hear others. She knew there had to be more throughout the building, but she was more concerned with the Courser.

She needed to get him alone. 

“Have all synths been recaptured?” she asked him, making her way towards the Courser.

“From what we have established, yes. Currently scanning each floor for any new persons of interest. Multiple Railroad personal have been terminated.”

That’s what Grace had been afraid of.

As she followed the Courser into the back room, her eyes fell on a body crumpled into a heap on the floor. She recognized it immediately as the man that was High Rise.

She had to swallow the bile that had risen to her throat.

“Great news.” She somehow mustered. 

Deacon had remained in the centre of the room, eyeing the two synths. She gave him a small nod, and he gave one in return. 

She slowly reached down to her holster that held Deliverer and watched the Courser bend down to punch things into a terminal.

_Now or never._

She quickly raised the pistol, aiming it to the back of the Coursers head and pulled the trigger. Again and again.

Fluid spurted through his temple onto the screen, and he slumped over the terminal.

His mechanical voice struggled to speak as he tried reaching for his laser rifle. She fired three more shots into his head before he fell to the ground in a heap.

Shots were being fired outside and she hurried out to meet Deacon who had already taken down one, and fired a final shot to the second. 

“We need to get them all.” She said, and he nodded.

Making their way down through the building, they took out synth after synth. Why so many had to be here, she had no idea. They managed to take them all out, only escaping with minor burns from the laser pistols. After the final one was shot, they made their way back up to the top. 

It was all she could do not to turn and bury her face into Deacons chest right there. 

If she didn’t have an excuse to hate the Institute before, she sure as hell did now.

“I’m sorry.” She found herself saying as she stood over the corpse of one of their fellow agents.

“Grace. Don’t.” was all Deacon said.

He walked over next to her, and reached down to hold her hand. They stood there in silence as they mourned their fallen comrades. 

She felt a tear escape and roll down her face.

She left it there. 

The Institute was going to pay for what lives it has ruined. As she hoped it was soon.

 


	35. The Broadcast

“Ticonderoga was wiped out by Coursers.” Said Deacon coldly. “No survivors.”

The look Dez gave him was heartbreaking. It felt like The Switchboard all over again. 

He hated it.

“All hands lost?” She threw down the folder of papers in her hands, sending them fluttering around her. He watched one piece pirouette to the ground. “God damn it.” She swore. “That was not the news I wanted to hear. Now we’re in a race.” 

“Hey, we’ve survived this far,” he somehow managed to quip. “We'll make it to the end.”

As much as a person could remain hopeful, it was beginning to look like the ball was in the Institutes court. But Deacon had faith in Grace. If anyone could help take down that hole in the ground, she could.

“Here’s hoping.” Replied Dez.

Deacon nodded. 

After filling Dez in on the previous situation regarding the Minutemen and the Synths, he made his way over to his bunk. Grace had long zapped her way back to the Institute, to do who knows what. This double agent business of hers was getting tougher and tougher to keep a secret. 

He couldn’t wait for all of this to be over.

Of course Deacon's mind couldn’t help but drift to Ticon. And High Rise and all of the other agents that were murdered. He really tried not to think about the blood surrounding the walls but he couldn’t help it. Memories flashed before his eyes, bringing up more memories of The Switchboard. 

Taking his glasses off he tossed them onto the bed and rubbed his eyes. 

_I’m tired of losing people._

It had to be one of the worst feelings in the world. Why he hardly acquainted himself with anyone these days. But the Railroad had always been family. 

_I need a vacation_.

Such thing didn’t exist nowadays. You were always on alert, heaven forbid you turn your back one minute and the next. 

Boom.

Bullet in the back of your head.

Deacon shook these thoughts from his mind.

He needed a walk.

Placing his glasses back over his eyes, he made his way out the back entrance of HQ.

Hands in his jean pockets, he walked along the small trail before coming to the small wharf. He stood there, overlooking the water, and couldn’t help but picture what this exact spot must have been like before all of this mess started. 

Colours bright enough to take your breath away.

These moments were rare. Simple, quiet and peaceful. With almost no worry of danger.

Deacon missed these moments. 

_Sometimes I just want to disappear_.

He blinked his eyes shut.

 _Focus, man_.

He opened his eyes and turned back towards HQ.

Work needed to be done.

 

***

 

“Ah, there you are.” Said Shaun as Grace stepped around a corner. 

She wasn’t trying to run into him, but she knew she would sooner or later. Multiple people had told her that he had been looking for her. She plastered on a fake smile and stopped as he walked to her.

“I cannot express how pleased I am.” Shaun continued. “Our new guest is familiarizing himself with his surroundings, yet he's already pointed out several inefficiencies in our methods.”

This was the first time Grace had seen the man so… happy? It was unnerving.

“With his help, Phase Three will be ready in no time. And it’s all thanks to you.”

_Yeah, thanks to me._

“A lot of work went into this before I even arrived…” she said. “Just how close are we?”

Shaun smiled. “It shouldn’t take long at all. The Facilities division has it well in hand. There is one more part for you to play, and I think you might enjoy it.”

_I find that hard to believe._

Shaun placed a hand on her back and steered her away from the listening ears that resided in the hallway. “It is time to announce our presence to the Commonwealth, to request they do not interfere with our plans. You should be the one to do it.”

Grace just stared at him.

_What?_

“What kind of announcement are we talking about?” she asked.

Now Shaun was grinning. “A broadcast. An announcement to the Commonwealth that the Institute is not to be trifled with. As the incoming Director, that responsibility naturally falls to you. We’ve prepared some remarks for you to record. Once you’ve finished, we'll broadcast them to the entire Commonwealth.” 

He motioned for her to follow him and she did reluctantly. He lead her into his room, to an old fashioned microphone attached to a terminal. “Use the microphone here, and follow this script.” He continued. “It’s quite simple. I’m sure you’ll do fine, mother.”

She smiled, looking down at the script in front of her. She skimmed through, mentally wincing at some of the wording. It didn’t sound peaceful at all. She noted to make some slight changes in areas. 

Shaun flicked on the microphone, and Grace stepped forward, looking down at the script.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

She watched him hit record on the terminal, and she cleared her throat.

“For years now, you have suspected that the Institute still exists, that we are among you. It’s true – but it's not the whole truth.”

She was hating every second of this.

“We are here, and we are the future. Our superior technology represents the future of the Commonwealth. Today, we activate our nuclear reactor, ensuring that we will persevere long after the world above ground ceases to exist.”

She winced at that part, but continued under the eye of Shaun.

“Ensuring that mankind has a future. We have no desire to interfere in the unimportant details of your daily lives. We simply insist that you do not interfere with Institute operations. Rest easy. Know that the future of mankind will thrive under our guidance.”

The microphone crackled for a moment before Shaun stopped recording.

“Well, that was… interesting.” He murmured. “Now that it's time to make sure that everyone hears it. How would you feel about making a little trip to Diamond City?”

Grace couldn’t help but light up at the sound of a familiar place. “I could use some fresh air.” She said.

Shaun raised his brows. “A quaint phrase, though I’m afraid the air there is anything but fresh. The radio station in Diamond City is listened to by many in the Commonwealth. If we'd like the people to hear what we have to say, it’s the best way to reach them.”

Shaun explained to her about finding the parts and modifying the stations transmitter.

Definitely not what Grace had in mind when visiting the Great Green Jewel.

 


	36. The Final Plans

It took nearly all day but Deacon finally scooped the last remaining pile of dirt onto the makeshift grave. He patted it down firmly, ignoring the knot forming in his shoulder. 

He was getting too old for this shit.

He had reluctantly made his way back to Ticon to take care of the bodies – his friends. No person in their right mind would just leave them to rot and decay. Him and a few others had helped clear out The Switchboard when that catastrophe had happened. And it wasn’t easy. This hadn't really been any easier, but now he knew when to shut off his brain. 

He dusted his hands off on his jeans and tossed the shovel to the side. 

It was done.

Five agents total, including High Rise, were buried with the other agents that they had lost. The ones from The Switchboard, and also the ones from the battle at Bunker Hill. It was a very solemn moment as he looked over the graves, each marked with a mixture of rocks and branches, serving as some half-assed headstone. 

He couldn’t help but glance over each one. Each poor soul that had their life taken from them.

_Any one of them could be you._

Deacon closed his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. Turning around he walked away from the makeshift cemetery.

He really hopped he wouldn’t have to come here again in a while.

Dez hadn't dared to pick the spot for the cemetery near HQ, it was in fact closer to Diamond City, residing in an old campsite to the south that overlooked the outskirts of the city. It was a very pretty spot. 

Reluctant to head back to HQ knowing damn well nothing good for him would wait there, he made his way to Diamond City. After spending the day up to his knees in dirt, Deacon felt he deserved a hot shower.

The sun had already long fallen and the few stars you could see were out. Danny nodded to him as he walked through the front gates, Deacon nodding back.

_Good guy, that Danny._

He walked down the steps, taking two at a time. Lost in his own world, he almost didn’t hear his name being called.

“I think you’ve got the wrong person, pal.” He mumbled to whomever it was.

“Come on, Deacon. You can't pull that crap on me.”

_Oh God. It's Piper._

Sure enough as Deacon frantically looked up he saw Piper standing with her hands on her hips outside Publik Occurrences.

“Hi,” he replied. “I’ll be going now.”

Piper rolled her eyes. “Where's Blue been? I’ve heard some very interesting things.”

Deacon didn’t miss a beat. “No comment.” 

“She better be okay, Deacon. Or there will be hell to pay.”

Deacon just waved and continued to his place, deciding to side step down a few alleys to make sure she wasn’t following him.  
He walked past Travis Miles' radio shack, and paused when he could hear shuffling coming from the inside. The noise stopped as soon as he did.

He glanced up at the small building, raising an eyebrow.

_What the hell was Travis up to now?_

Deacon shook his head and walked away from the shack.

He really needed a shower. He was starting to smell worse than Crazy Myrna.

After reaching his house and running out of hot water from standing under it for too damn long, he sat down on the couch. 

He couldn’t help but remember the last time he had been here, not knowing if Grace had been alive or dead. 

Tonight, after thinking back to what Piper had said, he wasn’t so sure now either.

 

***

 

Grace lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling after a sleepless night. She had gotten maybe three hours at most? Her brain hadn't been able to shut off.

She had modified the transmitter the night before no issue, the only snag having almost been caught at one point. She had brought a StealthBoy, and had almost flipped the switch until the person outside had just left.

When she arrived back at the Institute she was told to meet Shaun in the basement of Advanced Systems. There she was surprisingly amazed to find their reactor, as well as the numerous scientists stationed down there. Shaun had let Grace have the honours of switching the reactor online.

_Honours, my ass._

As she had stood on the platform staring into the glowing reactor, fists formed at her side. Shaun was giving some huge speech about how they were now mankind’s future, yatta yatta, she had forgotten and ignored most of it. 

It made her sick to her stomach to stand there by his side. 

He had told her the following morning that the Directorate was holding a meeting, and that she was to go in his place.

After all, she was going to be the next Director…

Groaning, Grace threw her pillow across the room. 

She skipped having a shower and dressed casually, in her own clothes. She hated the bleak white garments the Institute gave her. Throwing her hair in a high bun, she finally made her way to the meeting room.

All eyes were on her as she entered the room, making her way past Holdren and Ayo, to the head of the table. She sat down, placing her hands in front of her .

_Here we go._

“May I be the first to welcome you, ma'am.” Said Allie Filmore. “We’re looking forward to working with you.”

Grace gave her best fake smile. “I’m happy to be here, Dr. Filmore. I hope I do the position justice.”

Filmore nodded in response. “I’m sure you will.”

Dr. Ayo cleared his throat. “Right, we’re all here because it's finally time to stand up for ourselves.”

Dr. Filmore rolled her eyes. “Let’s not be dramatic, Justin.”

“There's nothing dramatic about it.” Sneered the man. “We're in a position to push back, to assert ourselves here. That’s what we’ve talked about all along.”

“To bring you up to speed,” Dr. Holdren commented. “Obviously there are groups in the Commonwealth that stand in opposition to the Institute's goals. With the reactor now online, we have the ability to not only expand synth production, but to project power to a much greater degree.”

Grace nodded. “I’m sure the reactor will improve everyone’s life. It’s a great accomplishment.”

“Yes,” Dr. Holdren agreed. “but it's not just that. The Directorate has…” he trailed off, glancing at the other scientists. “…agreed that steps must be taken to ensure our safety in the long run.”

Dr. Li scoffed. “Let’s not beat around the bush. The Directorate has agreed that the Brotherhood of Steel has to be eliminated.”

Grace was surprised.

She did not see that coming.

“As the incoming Director, we felt it important to inform you of the decision and get your thoughts on it.” Said Ayo. “So, where do you stand?”

Grace couldn’t help but give it some thought. The Brotherhood was already an enemy of the Railroad. Getting them out of the picture would help the synths greatly. 

“I agree.” She replied. “We hit them hard, before they have time to react to our new position.”

The scientists all murmured in agreement.  
“Good,” said Ayo. “That’s just what I wanted to hear.”

The Directorate continued to discuss multiple areas and issues where they could improve. It was draining, having to make such decisions when in reality there was good chance none of it would be happening at all.

But she played the part, answered their questions to the best of her lying abilities.

They were just finishing up the meeting when all of a sudden a synth appeared in the doorway.

“Apologies.” He said. “I have an urgent message from Z1-14.”

Grace felt her heart thud to a halt.

“Your quarters have flooded, ma’am. There is danger of extensive damage to your personal effects.”

Grace glanced around at the scientists. They all seemed genuinely concerned.

“I’ll go right now.” She said, standing from her seat.

“Time is of the essence.” Said the synth. “To avoid any undue tragedy, please see Z1-14 at once.”

Grace nodded, wishing the scientists the best, and quickly made her way to her room.  
As soon as she saw Z1 she locked the doors behind her.

“What took RF so long to reach you?” he asked, a look of worry washed over his face. “You must act now. The Brotherhood of Steel has discovered the location of the Railroad.”

Grace stared at the synth.

_Oh God, no…_

“Those… those bastards know where we are…” she whispered.

“I know.” Replied Z1. “I was hoping for more time to organize our rebellion, but it's clear we cannot delay.” He stepped forward and placed his hands on either of her shoulders. “Once you secure the Railroad against the Brotherhood, tell your people we are ready to fight. Go, now.”

Grace nodded, and Z1 left quickly. Grace frantically attached her armour and grabbed her rifles, before relaying out of her chambers.

_We can win this._


	37. The Brotherhood of Steel

Deacon leaned against the counter at Power Noodles. He was people watching today, enjoying his last little bit of freedom before heading back to the insanity that was HQ.

He turned to the whirring robot, currently stirring a big pot of noodles. 

“Takahashi,” he said. “What’s the good word today?”

“Nan-ni shimasho-ka?”

“Really? No shit? What happened then?”

“Nan-ni shimasho-ka?”

Deacon let out a small chuckle. “That is one hell of a story.” He slid off his stool, tossing a few caps onto the table. “Stay you, T-bot.”

The robot continued to stir, letting out a few beeps.

Deacon began to make his way up the stairs of Diamond City, when he saw two Brotherhood of Steel soldiers decked to the nines in power armor. They made their way down the steps, and he quickly turned away, opting to lean against the church. There was a newspaper nearby and in a flash he had it propped up in front of him. 

He peered over the paper, watching the two soldiers wielding rifles and stomping around the city. It had been quite some time since he’d last seen the Brotherhood in Diamond City. And it never meant anything good.

After they left his sight, he tossed down the paper and snuck his way back up the stairs.

He started making his way to HQ, making a mental note to let Dez know about the tin men.

As he rounded a few buildings, he could start to hear the whirring of a vertibirds propellers. It was getting closer. He looked up into the sky, but couldn’t find them.

_Very peculiar._

He knew the Brotherhood regularly did air patrols, but never this close to the city. They usually stuck to the outskirts, in smaller towns where they could stumble across synth refugees.

He continued towards HQ, hearing the vertibirds get closer and closer. All too soon he watched one, followed by another fly above him. 

One thing he couldn’t help but marvel at was the sheer power those suckers had. He'd been in one a few times, mainly from previous missions and once while touring DC. 

He learned then that he wasn’t a big fan of heights.

He realized watching the vertibirds that they were suspiciously heading in the direction of HQ.

He felt his heart beat a little faster.

There was no way they’d discovered their location...

_Right?_

He quickened his pace just in case.

***

Grace didn’t want to risk any time and relayed right into HQ. She appeared in a flash of blue, and multiple gasps came from the agents.  She searched many confused and surprised faces before finally finding Dez. 

She quickly hurried over, Dez looking deeply concerned. “Z1's rebellion is ready, but we have a crisis. The Brotherhood’s on their way here.”

Dez's eyes opened wide in disbelief. “What? What are you talking about?”

“The Institute caught wind of a surprise attack.”

She watched the woman's face turn white. 

“Jesus. I can’t believe this is happening. Grab what you can for ammo and hurry!” 

Grace did exactly that, grabbing a bag full of .50 caliber bullets for her rifle, and Dez addressed the rest of HQ.

“Everyone, mobilize!” Ordered Dez. “We got Brotherhood incoming. Assume defensive positions. Reinforce Glory in the tunnels! Move. Move!”

A flurry of agents quickly started grabbing whatever weapon they could find, attaching their armour as quickly as they could. Grace couldn’t help but wonder where Deacon was in all of this madness. She really hoped he was safe.

“The Brotherhood?” she overheard someone swear. “Jesus.”

“Dez'll get us through this,” another reassured. “She always does.”

_I really hope so._

All of a sudden a loud blast came from the secret back entrance of HQ, and everyone had their rifles ready. Grace stood with Dez and Drummer Boy as three agents scurried towards the archway. Soon, multiple shots from the Railroad rang into the depths of the HQ. 

Grace loaded her rifle, aiming towards the entrance. She could hear the loud footsteps of the Brotherhood’s power armour getting closer. 

Screams rang out and Grace didn’t know which party it belonged to. But at that point it didn’t matter. Three Brotherhood agents made their way into the archway and began firing. 

Grace couldn’t help but let out a guttural scream as she fired her rifle. She aimed for their helmets and was successful at taking off one. She could hear Dez beside her, wreaking her own havoc. All Grace could concentrate on was the enemy in front.

She heard multiple screams around her, and she watched as the Brotherhood agents fall one by one, blood splattering the brick walls of HQ. She turned to see two of their own agents get burned by the lasers, dropping to the floor. 

She turned back to see a final BOS soldier appear in the entrance and she aimed to take a shot. Her rifle clicked and her heart thudded to a stop. 

_Empty chamber_.

Before she could think to reload, she felt a burning sensation tear across her shoulder.

She gasped in pain, clutching her arm. Lifting her hand up she saw blood and winced. 

The next thing she knew she heard Tinker Tom yell and she looked up in time to see him wielding a mess of welded parts. He fired at the Brotherhood agent, sending rail bolts of all things into the man. One pinned him to the wall behind him through his shoulder, and he screamed. Tom fired more bolts, one landing in the soldiers side, leg, and stomach. Grace watched with a blank stare as blood dripped from each wound.

“I think that’s the last of them!” someone yelled.

Grace looked around and saw at least half of the Railroad standing, with the others lying in pools of blood and charred skin. 

At that moment she couldn’t help but lean against one of the cement pillars, closing her eyes as bile rose to her throat. 

“Can we get out the way they came?” someone asked.

“We're cut off.” She could hear Dez say. “The catacombs are our only way out.”

Grace wiped her mouth, and stood facing the remainder of the HQ. 

She was tired of fighting. 

She was tired of losing people.

She wanted this to be over.

“I’ll clear the catacombs.” she said.

Everyone looked at her in almost disbelief.

She loaded her rifle and aimed it in front of her as she headed up the stairs into the familiar chamber where she first stumbled upon the Railroad. Grace gasped as she saw Glory leaned against the wall clutching her chest. Grace ran forward and fell to her knees in front of her friend. 

"Oh God," she sputtered, her chest feeling tight. "Glory, are you okay?" Grace asked, pressing her hand to Glory's. 

Her friends eyes were glazing over, but she heard the woman let out a week chuckle.

"None of them got past me." She said, coughing violently. She clutched at her chest tighter. "Damn, that stings."

Grace frantically looked down from Glory to her wound, hoping there was something that could be done.

But deep down she knew nothing would help.

"Jesus, Glory." Grace groaned.

"Listen, the Railroad's always sitting on its hand..." Glory trailed off, hitting at the pain. Grace felt her clutch at her arm with her free hand. "You're the best thing that's ever happened." 

Grace could feel the tears start to form. 

"Promise me you'll free them." Glory groaned. She opened her eyes to look at Grace. "All of them."

Grace felt a tear roll down her cheek. "I promise." She whispered.

"If anyone -" Glory was cut off by a series of coughs that broke Grace's heart. "Isnt there... " she said in barely a whisper. "Supposed to be a light?"

And in that moment she felt Glory's body relax around her. 

 

 


	38. The Beginning To An End

Deacon could hear gunfire inside the Old North Church.

After following the vertibirds to HQ, he'd watched in horror as multiple BOS soldiers in varying forms of armor dropped from the machines. Multiple soldiers in full suits of power armor stormed the front entrance. They had seemed to be securing the area, but he overhead one of them radio to another about the secret entrance. That they had found it.

That had made him sick to his stomach.

All he could do was hide. He only had his pistol on him, an idiotic thing on his part. He knew he should have left Diamond City with something more, but he hadn't exactly been thinking straight. So he felt helpless, knowing that his fellow agents were trapped down there from each side. He hated every second of it.

So when he'd started hearing the gun fire on the top floor, he felt hope. He knew that some of them had survived the attack from below. 

He only prayed now that there would be enough to take out the soldiers hiding up top.

He watched as the few BOS soldiers securing the outside dashed inside. Shots were continuously being fired, and many of them. 

After what seemed like ages, three final shots rang out, and the area rang silent.  
Knowing damn well he should wait to see if there were any more, he couldn’t help but leave his hiding spot and make his way over to the church.

As he entered all he could smell was blood. Thick and coppery in the air. He held his pistol ahead of him, and slowly made his way inside. Prepared for the worst, as soon as he passed the entrance, he stopped in his tracks.

There stood Grace, of all people, rifle hanging at her side, and her face splattered in blood, both dried and fresh. Laser burns littered her arms and legs. He'd never seen her this way before. 

Behind her he watched as Desdemona, Tinker Tom, and a few others flood their way into the church from the basement. Each one looked about the same as Grace. Bruised and burned. 

"I leave HQ for a second and that's when the Brotherhood hits us? Damnit." He couldn’t help but say. 

He watched Grace's face light up and her eyes locked with his. She ran over, throwing her arms around him, nearly knocking him off his feet. He wrapped his own arms around her as she buried her face in his chest. 

"It's okay." He felt himself whispering into her hair.

Her grip around him tightened.

He looked at the group before him, noticing the number of agents was significantly less. "How bad was it down there?"

Finally, Grace lifted her head off his chest, and the look she gave him nearly broke his heart. Her eyes were bloodshot, with streaks of tears across her face. She definitely had been crying.

"Glory's dead."

For a brief sick moment, he thought she was joking. But he soon realized she wasn’t. 

_Oh fucking hell no_.

"Shit, Glory?" He said quietly. He pulled her to him again, his hand cradling the back of her head, his chin resting on top. "This is a nightmare."

Guilt wreaked havoc through him. He desperately wished it was him instead of Glory. After all the shit she had been through, she didn’t deserve this death. But thinking back, it had always been the way she wanted to go – in a fire fight.

"We should talk with Dez," Deacon said after a moment. "hopefully she knows our next move." 

He felt Grace nod against him, and they untangled themselves from each other. They made their way over to the small group.

"You've killed the last of them and you're still standing." The woman said to Grace in awe. "I wish the same could be said for Glory... no time for that, though." Dez turned to face the small crowd. "The Brotherhood underestimated us badly. Their next attack will be far, far worse. So we do the unexpected. We eliminate the Brotherhood as a threat. Now. And the key to that is destroying their flying fortress. The Prydwyn. Fortunately, we got a contingency plan for that." Dez turned towards Tom. "Tom, we're activating Operation: Red Glare."

All eyes were on the man and he looked between everyone, holding up his hands. "What? But Red Glare requires a Brotherhood vertibird."

"Then Fixer will get you one."

"Sure," Deacon looked down to Grace who had finally spoken up. "I'll just swing by the local Super-Duper Mart and pick one up. Need some milk, too?"

Deacon smiled. 

_That's my girl._

"This isn't the time." Said Dez. "The Brotherhood's occupied at the Cambridge Police Station. Spotters reported they almost always have a vertibird parked on its roof. Take it. And Tom," she said, turning towards him. "You're going with her."

The man's jaw nearly fell to the floor. "Me? In the field?"

"No one else can fly that damned thing. This one's for Glory. Move out!"

 

***

 

Grace, Deacon, and Tom made their way to Cambridge. It was midday, and after the fight in HQ, the last thing Grace wanted to do was take a walk out in the open to fight some more Brotherhood soldiers. But she didn’t really have a choice. 

From what Dez told them, the Police Station wasn’t incredibly far away. It was just over the bridge north of Diamond City, but it took them a bit longer as they used back roads, taking Deacon's advice. After he told them that the Brotherhood had been spotted in and around Diamond City, they didn’t want to take any chances. 

Almost the entire time consisted of Tom complaining. That and pointing out every possible thing that could have a camera hidden in it. He went even so far as to pin blame on the poor ravens that sat on the power line. 

_"Man how do you live up here?"_ He had said. _"There's a million ways we could be monitored right now. By the Brotherhood, or... you know."_

 _"Relax, Tom."_ Grace had said. _"You'll be alright."_

_"Right. The whole breathing in and out."_

He had trailed a bit behind them, as Grace and Deacon lead the way.

Once they got within distance of the Police Station, Tom left to find a good vantage point to do some quick recon. Grace and Deacon took cover in a small building outside of the campus. The place was littered with long killed feral ghouls, but Grace couldn't help but worry that some of them would come back to life at any time. 

"Hey," she heard Deacon say, and she turned to look at him. They were beside each other, leaning against a counter. They both had their arms crossed, and he gave her shoulder a small nudge. "How are you doing?"

“I’m okay.”

She was far from it, and she knew Deacon knew, but he didn’t dwell on it.

He chose that moment to stand back upright, turning to face her. He took both of her hands in his, pressing them to his lips. 

That smallest touch caused her to shiver. It had been too long since the last time they’d been alone, worry free.

“I miss you.” He said softly.

The corner of her mouth lifted slightly. “I’m right here.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead, and she closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of him in front of her. She took a deep breath and all she could smell was Deacon. She missed it so much.

They stood there wrapped in a loose embrace. Grace rested her head against his chest while he slowly traced patterns along her back. She didn’t know if this mission was going to be her last. If this was the last time she would be with Deacon. 

She looked up at him and lifted off his sunglasses. Those magnificent blue and green eyes of his burned into hers. If this was the last time she got to see him, she needed to commit those eyes to memory. 

“I love you.” She said.

He smiled, and her heart fluttered at that smile. “I love you too, beautiful.”

He leaned down to give her a small, but passionate kiss. She would have loved for it to last forever, but the crunch of gravel to their left broke the connection. They turned to see Tom making his way over to them. Grace unwrapped herself from Deacon.

_This is it._

“Okay,” he said as he got to them. “The police station is crawling with Brotherhood guys. At least one in power armor. But, as promised, they got a vertibird on the roof. You really up for this?”

Grace looked up at Deacon, who had already placed his glasses back on. He gave a small nod.

She thought of Glory, and all too quickly her anger returned.

“It's payback time.”

Tom nodded. “Prepping that vertibird for take-off is gonna take me a few minutes. So first we gotta clear the police station.” 

Tom did something next that surprised Grace. He placed his hand in the centre of the three of them. It was something she hadn't seen since Before, mainly when she used to play for her universities volleyball game. She didn’t think that action was still around.

She smiled as he said, “For Glory.”

She placed her own hand atop of his, followed by Deacon’s on top of hers.   
She looked at Deacon and together repeated: “For Glory.”

 

 


	39. The Police Station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All I want to say is the part in the game when Deacon's voice cracks at "Were spinning. Spinning!" Makes me smile like a goon everytime.

By the time the three of them had finished off the last of the Brotherhood soldiers, most of their bullets had been spent. They spent a few minutes looting the bodies for their weapons and any extra ammo they could find. Deacon was used to this part of fighting. As much as it was disgustingly morbid, it had to be done. 

Plus... they did have some pretty good shit on them.

After a while, Deacon and Grace made their way up to the roof of the police station and found Tinker Tom marveling at the vertibird. 

“We got ourselves some wheels!” he exclaimed. “Or wings… or whatever this is.” He turned to face them. “Here's the deal: after flight prep, we take the vertibird up to the Prydwyn and dock. From the inside the blimp’s vulnerable. To keep that baby afloat it's got massive gas bags full of hydrogen.”

Deacon looked over to Grace who wore a look of disbelief.

“And they'll just let us land?” she asked.

Tom just laughed. “There's no way they’d expect anybody to hijack one of their 'birds. And Deacon says he can talk his way past air traffic control.” 

Grace shot him a look and he shrugged his shoulders.

“But I ain’t gonna lie,” Tom continued. “Your part is tricky. You’ve got to find a way to place those explosives on the gasbags. Then get back out.”

Deacon watched Grace take this all in. 

It was a ridiculous plan when they had first come up with it ages ago, and it was a ridiculous plan still. But it was the only thing they had.

“Flight prep is going to take time." Said Tom. "And the Brotherhood’s just not going to give it to us. So if Paladins show up keep them off me and the ‘bird.”

Deacon and Grace both nodded and Tom climbed onto the machine. He immediately began tugging off a panel and pulling at some wires. 

The air was far too quiet so they didn’t drift far from Tom. Deacon wandered over to the far wall to dig through some scrap as Grace loaded her new laser rifle with fusion cells.  
Deacon could feel his adrenaline starting to fade until he heard the purr of an engine in the distance

He quickly made his way back to Grace who was squinting into the sky.

“Man we got a vertibird incoming.” He muttered aloud. “Shit.”

Sure enough moments later the metal machine came into view, and the soldier manning the minigun started to fire immediately. Deacon and Grace took cover behind some barrels and aimed for the operator. Bullets whizzed past them, sinking into the concrete wall behind them as they fired. They couldn’t get a good shot until the vertibird came closer into view. They patiently waited a few moments, till the soldier came into perfect view.

Deacon took a deep breath, lining his sights with the soldier and fired. 

The laser knocked him square in the chest, a large hole burned into the skin. The soldier toppled over the minigun and fell to the ground. 

_One down._

With no one manning the minigun, Deacon and Grace scrambled out of cover and began shooting at the pilot. 

Deacon swore as their shots missed, and soon the vertibird was hovering above them and two Brotherhood soldiers in full sets of power armor jumped out of the machine.

_Not good._

The ground shook beneath them as the soldiers landed on the roof. Deacon could hear his name being called but all he could do was fire at the two. 

“Get out of the way!” he heard Grace yell. He turned to look at her briefly and found her already stationed in the vertibird with Tom, only with her hands on the minigun. 

Deacon quickly dashed away from the soldiers, feeling the lasers from their rifles whizzing by his face. 

Suddenly the minigun came to life and exploded with rounds of bullets. Deacon took that moment to look for the vertibird that was still airborne. From where he was crouched he couldn’t make much of anything, aside from the screams of the brotherhood soldiers and the pinging of bullets on metal.

Suddenly the vertibird came into view on his left and he raised his rifle, aiming for the pilot. His shot broke through the glass and hit the pilot square in the forehead. He fell forward, and suddenly the vertibird starting flying towards him. Deacon raised his arms above his head, waiting for the impact.

The vertibird dropped enough in time that it hit the side of the building below them, erupting in an explosion of flames and debris. 

_Two down._

Deacon's ears rang in his ears and he brushed off the shrapnel that fell on him. He had a few small burns littering his legs and arms but otherwise fine.

The minigun had stopped and Deacon looked over to see the two soldiers in power armor on the ground. He made his way over to Grace who wiped at her forehead. 

“These are fun.” She said, looking down at the minigun. 

Deacon could have kissed her.

He helped her down from the vertibird as Tom complained that he almost died. He started going off on a tangent but Deacon ignored him, wiping at a trail of blood coming from a small cut on Grace's cheek.

“How you doing?” he asked.

She gave a small smile. “I’m holding up, alright.”

Tom informed them that he was almost finished, so they took that time to double check the station for any more supplies.

Grace went off to look for more ammo and Deacon started looking for any uniforms that hadn't been destroyed. He managed to find a couple suits that were beat up a little, but not covered in blood. He quickly changed out of his clothes and into the flight suit. He gathered his stuff together and went to find Grace.

“First things first,” he said as he found her counting ammo. “I picked up some Brotherhood goodies for you.” He dropped it in her arms. “Merry Christmas.”

She gave him a small, almost sad smile, and he could hear Tinker yelling from the roof. “More importantly though, I think Tinker's ready for us on the ‘bird. Let’s go.”

 

***

 

Grace quickly changed into the Brotherhood uniform. It fit similar to her vault suit, and she couldn’t help but shiver at the memory. Deacon stood watch and she knew he wasn’t paying much attention to his duties.

“Deacon I know you’re looking at me.” Grace said.

“I’m sorry, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen you like that. I can't help myself."

Grace rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but agree. It had been too long since the last time they had been alone. 

Now wasn’t the time to think about that.

They were in the middle of a war.

“Come on.” She said.

They made their way to the vertibird, and climbed on board. They got themselves seated, and Grace couldn’t help but feel nervous. She had flown on a plane before, sure, but she had never been in a vertibird. Not even when Nate had been stationed. She buckled the strap tight across her waist.

The blades spun quickly above them and they slowly started to lift off the ground. 

“So uh… wheels up?” Tom said, more to himself than anything. “Uh… so this… yoke?”

“Dez said you could fly this thing!” Deacon yelled at him from beside her. 

The vertibird lifted and quickly dropped, but was soon lifting again. The metal vibrated underneath her.

“Sure, sure.” Said Tom. “Read the manual cover to cover.”

Grace looked over at Deacon and his face was drained of colour. “ _The manual_?”

Grace gripped the edge of her seat and squeezed her eyes shut.

_Please don’t die like this._

They had enough height now, and Grace couldn’t help but open her eyes as the machine started swinging left above the trees.

“We're spinning!” Deacon screamed, his voice breaking. “ _Spinning_!”

“Oh, man! Hold it together!” said Tom. After a few moments the vertibird was finally stationary, and they were moving forward. “See?” exclaimed Tom. “Just like falling off a log.”

“Dear, God.” Deacon groaned. “We’re dead.”

Grace couldn’t help but look out to the world below her. The view was incredible, but the destruction was far worse than she ever imagined while being down there. She felt a tear in her heart as she took in the ruins of the Commonwealth. 

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Deacon. They simply stared at each other, him wearing those stupid glasses. She reached forward and removed them, revealing those eyes again. Yes, she was selfish and couldn’t get enough of them. Especially during a time like this. 

He gave her a small smile and pressed his lips to hers. It didn't last long, but it was perfect.

“Right. Briefing time.” He said, placing the glasses back over his eyes. “Glory would have wanted us to go in guns blazing, but I’m thinking – finesse. I got you this as well.” He reached behind him and pulled out some combat armor, the chest piece adorned with the Brotherhood insignia, and a helmet.

She wielded the helmet, then placed the armor over her arms and leg, buckling it up. Then finally the chest piece. It definitely fit a lot nicer than her previous armors. 

_If we get out of here alive, I just might have to keep it for myself_.  _With a bit of a paint job, of course._

“You’re wearing the latest in the Brotherhood’s fall fashion line.” Deacon continued. “Might help you place those bombs and get you back in one piece.”

“Uh,” Tom piped up from the front. “And the Brotherhood’s just gonna fall for that?”

“The Brotherhood is nothing if not arrogant.” Deacon replied. “They'd never dream in a billion years that an ex-farmer and a scavver could fly one of their ‘birds. So if we look, walk, and if worst comes to worst, talk like an asshole with a superiority complex, we’ll be fine.”

Grace couldn’t help but smile. 

“And even if we don’t, hey, even if it only buys you a little time that’s better than nothing.”

All three were quiet as they flew. Tom was a little shaky on the throttle, but it was keeping them alive. Grace had her eyes on Deacon.

“Big open spaces.” She hear him say quietly.

She watched him shudder.

The vertibird was quiet again, aside from the whirring of the propellers and the roar inside the cabin.

“When we land, Tinker is going to keep the vertibird spooled for an immediate takeoff.” Said Deacon as the Prydwyn came into view. “And my job is to be Tom's lookout and make sure any looky-loos keep walking. Tom, we’re getting closer to the blimp. Can you fly just a little straighter?”

“Deacon, man, I’m trying. If you want to give it a whirl, I wont stop you.”

“No, no, no. You’re doing _great_ , Tom. Just try and keep her a little more steady.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got you.”

They were really closing in on the Prydwyn now, and Grace still couldn’t believe the size of it. It had been so long ago when she had first seen it after killing Kellogg. She had forgotten just how massive it was.

Deacon stood from where he was sitting beside Grace, and made his way over to Tom. He took a seat in the co-pilot’s chair and wielded the hand held to the radio.

“Scabbard this is Claymore.” Deacon said into the radio, making his voice deeper. “Requesting clearance.”

Grace was impressed. If no one believed his voice, then they were definitely screwed.

She held her breath as the radio buzzed in response. _“Claymore, you’re cleared for launch bay three. Deck officer is requesting an update on the police station.”_

Deacon looked back towards Grace. 

_“I don’t know_ ” she mouthed to him.

“Uh… hostiles eliminated.” He finally replied.

_“Scimitar’s status? Confirm.”_

“Scimitar took some fire. Should be up and running in a few hours.”

“ _We have a visual on you , Claymore. Your docking port’s not open.”_

Deacon flashed a look at Tom as he frantically looked at the buttons on the panel in front of him.

“Got some… technical difficulties with the port… thingy. Working on it.” He replied back. “Tom?” he hissed.

“Yeah but which button is it?” he searched around some more until he found one. “Uh, there?” he said pressing a button at random.

They heard a whirring come from underneath the vertibird.

_“Claymore, you’re clear for approach.”_

Tom flew the vertibird under the belly of the Prydwyn and soon there was a jolt from above the vertibird. Grace could feel the machine being lifted.

Deacon quickly turned to Grace and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Remember: keep that Brotherhood uniform on. Otherwise it's going to be the shortest infiltration in history."

"Don't take too long in there, either." Said Tom. "If anyone comes over here... I don't know if I can fool them. Good luck."

Grace nodded and looked back at Deacon as the vertibird docked. 

"I believe in you." He said. 

She smiled, heart beating frantically, and stepped off the vertibird onto the Prydwyn.

 

 

 

 


	40. The Infiltration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Planning on going on holidays starting tomorrow so may not have an update for another week or so. Will be bringing my notes just in case. Shit's getting real so I'm just as excited to see this to an end. 
> 
> Also, not sure if any of you follow Oxhorn on YouTube or not, but he just uploaded an hour long video about Deacon and his lore on Fallout. Sooo if you're as much of a lover of him as I am, I highly suggest checking it out.

Deacon watched Grace as she stepped out off the vertibird, pack over her shoulders, and slowly made her way along the catwalk. The few scribes doing work on the ship ignored her as she passed, and he watched her climb the stairs. One of the Knights carrying a minigun manning the door spoke to her, and then too soon she was inside the Prydwyn.

Deacon couldn’t remember being more terrified in his life.

Well, that was a lie. 

He could think of one instance… and it rhymed with Shmarbra.

But he didn’t want to thinking about that.

He didn’t want to think about any of that.

Yet here he had just sent the second love of his life into the belly of the beast.

He finally turned away from where he saw her last, and looked to Tinker Tom.

“She can do it, man.” He said.

Deacon nodded, briefly looking back.

“’Course she can."

He taught her everything he knew right? He knew she could blend right in with those assholes. Hell, she'd have them all eating out of her pretty little palm. 

Right?

He believed in her.

She could do it.

Yeah.

She could do it.

 

***

 

Grace was terrified. 

The few words the Knight spoke to her had her shaking inside. She had never felt so terrified in her life. 

But she had a mission to complete.

After stepping into the Prydwyn, she found herself on a command deck of sorts. Below her she saw a few soldiers turning dials and pressing buttons. In front of her seemed to be a meeting room, with two sofas on either side , end tables littered with liquor bottles all facing a massive view of the Commonwealth. She quickly climbed the ladder in front of her, pulling herself up onto the main deck. 

She couldn’t believe her eyes.

Brotherhood soldiers of all kinds walked past her, men and women, and even _children_. She had to stop herself from staring. It all seemed so normal for them up here. 

She made herself take a few steps forward and found herself in what seemed to be the mess hall. A few people sat at tables eating, while one man stood behind a bar. 

As she tried to figure out where to go next, one of the Brotherhood soldiers came up to her.

“You came in on Claymore, right?” he asked.

Heart thumping madly she somehow managed to make eye contact with him and nod.

“The radio chatter from the police station had the tower worried. What happened anyway?”

Thinking fast, Grace cleared her throat and rolled her eyes. “The Railroad launched some half-assed counter attack.”

“What? The Railroad?” the man seemed genuinely surprised. “They attacked the police station?” 

“Just a couple snipers.” Grace replied. “The air support helped us find their position.”

The man shook his head with a small smile.

“The idiot’s don’t know when they’ve been beat. Your ‘bird flew support on the Railroad assault, right? How’d they beat us? Elder Maxson's furious.”

_Elder Maxson?_

_Right._

_Only the leader of the Brotherhood of Steel._

“That wasn’t their HQ.” she said quickly. “It was a trap. They blew the tunnels and killed a lot of good men.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Sneaky.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “We’ll get them next time. Ad Victorium, sister.”

He moved his hand off of her, and walked away.

 _Ad Victorium_?

Grace had learned a little bit of Latin back Before in law school. If she remembered correctly it meant: To Victory.

How precious.

She made her way out of the mess hall and into an area that seemed to be a workshop. Multiple power armor stands lined each wall and soldiers were working on different suits. Grace watched a woman wearing what looked like a homemade suit wall past her. Grace was surprised to see the woman was missing the lower half of her legs.

“Outta the way, knight.” The woman spoke, and Grace quickly jumped out of her way.

She found a stair case and slowly made her way up. As she reached the top, she turned and collided with someone.

“I’m so sorry!” she said, stepping back and looking to see a spindly man with glasses looking at her with furrowed brows.

“I cant help but notice you’re empty handed.” He sneered. “Please, tell me that Haylen remembered to load my package on the Claymote. Those technical documents may be exactly what we need to repair Liberty Prime. So you understand the urgency.”

This guy reminded her too much of Carrington, and because of that she wasn’t a fan.

“Unloading cargos not my job.” She said simply.

The man glared down at her, and then pushed his glasses up his nose. “Maybe I’ll send one of the Squires, then.”

Grace gave a small nod, and walked past him.

Letting out a small breath, she stopped to get her bearings.

_Why the hell is everyone stopping and asking me questions?_

After collecting herself, she made her way around the barracks. Multiple beds lined the walls, with numerous soldiers doing mundane things. Making the beds, sweeping the floors, fixing their weapons. 

Grace tried really hard not to think of how innocent most of these people were and that they were all going to die.

She could feel the weight of the bombs in her pack as she made her way up another flight of stairs. Her boots clanged against the metal. It wasn’t making this any easier.

She walked slowly along the metal platform and found a switch that definitely looked like it had some sort of relevance to the gasbags. She looked around her, about to remove one of the explosives, but saw a Brotherhood soldier spot her.

“Hey! This is a restricted section. You shouldn’t be up here.”

_Time to play dumb._

“Dammit!” she said. “I’m new here. There aren’t any signs.”

The man rolled his eyes at her. “Idiot! Were you paying _any_ lick of attention during training? No one's allowed near the gasbags except authorized personnel.” He stepped forward, lowering his voice. “If I see you here again, I’ll have to call security.”

Grace nodded, and quickly left, walking back down the stairs.

 _Shit_. 

This was going to be a lot harder than she thought.

Suddenly she remembered the StealthBoy that Deacon had put into her pack.

 _“Just in case.”_ he had said.

_God, Deacon, I love you._

She quickly dug through the pack and carefully dug out the StealthBoy. Looking around she strapped it to her waist and in a press of a button was invisible.

She carefully made her way back up the stairs, slowly as not to make noises on the stupid metal steps. She watched the same man walk past her, and then made his way down the platform.

She snuck down the opposite way to the first switch. Looking back to the guard she found him looking away. She grabbed one explosive and strapped it underneath the switch. If you didn’t know it was there, you couldn’t _really_ see it.

Grace hoped the guard had poor eyesight.

She slowly made her way to the second switch , watching the guard as she did so. He was busy talking to someone a floor below, so she took that moment to quickly install the next explosive. 

As soon as she was finished, the man turned and started walking towards her. She flattened herself against the wall as flat as she could and held her breath. 

He slowly made his way by her, but then stopped suddenly. He turned his head to look around and looked her dead in the eyes. 

Heart beating madly, her entire body froze, but then all too soon the man turned his head and continued walking the opposite way.

She could have cried.

Grace made her way to the last switch and installed the last explosive. She didn’t have much time left on her SteathBoy, so she hurruedly finished up, and made her way to the center of the platform and down the stairs. 

_Now to get the hell out of here._

The SteathBoy finally faded and she was thankful it had been out of sight of the others on the Prydwyn. She ditched the SteathBoy behind a crate, along with the pack. She wouldn’t be needing those anymore.

She made her way through the barracks, and was headed toward the stairs when a man stood near the top, seeming to be waiting for her. He was wearing a flight hat, and had his arms crossed. He didn’t look too happy.

“Now’s not a good time to keep me waiting.” He said as she approached him cautiously. “And Claymore’s hours overdue.” He paused for a moment, and then looked at her with his head cocked to the side. “Wait, why isn't Knight Owen’s handling this debrief?”

Grace clasped her hands behind her back. “We had some big problems at the police station. Owen’s…” she trailed off, lowering her gaze from the man’s. “He didn’t make it.”

The man let out a long sigh. “One disaster after the next. If you had of arrived when you were scheduled to we could’ve handled the debrief right away. As is, I’ll send someone for you when I can spare the time. Dismissed.”

Grace placed her hand at her forehead, saluting the man, but he gave her a strange glance. She quickly maneuvered by him and made her way down the stairs. 

She couldn’t believe she was almost out of there. She walked briskly through the workroom, and through the mess hall. She could see the ladder to get down onto the command deck. All she wanted to do was run and get the hell out of here as fast as she possibly could before anyone noticed something was awry. 

Finally, she approached the ladder and placed her hand on the first wrung, when the door opened to the room in front of her.

Out stepped a man, towering over her, draped in a large coat that brushed the floor. His face was covered in a thick beard and a jagged scar ran down his cheek. He looked at her with piercing blue eyes, absolutely menacing and terrifying beautiful at the same time. Her heart froze, because the last time she had seen eyes like that they had been searching for hers with fear as a gunshot rang through a vault.

“Knight, what happened with the Railroad?” the man asked, voice deep.

“Uh…” 

This was it. Grace was going to die.

“Speak up, Knight.”

“They blew up a tunnel.” She found herself saying, repeating what she’d said to the Knight she'd spoken to earlier. “It was a trap. Not their actual HQ.”

“Of course.” He said quietly, more to himself than her. He walked around her and stopped beside her. “I expect a full report of this by tonight.”

Grace nodded. “Y-yes, sir. Elder."

He looked at her with one raised brow, and then left without another word.

Grace took a deep breath, and with shaky hands climbed down the ladder.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first time I'd taken out the Brotherhood it was guns blazing. This playthrough I hadnt gone to Cambridge at all so the steath option came as a nice surprise. The first option is fun though, because hello battlecoat.


	41. The Rocket's Red Glare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from vacation! Glad to be posting again. Enjoy!

Deacon was nervous.

And he was never nervous.

Only two Brotherhood Scribes had come to check on them, but Deacon had successfully managed to divert their attention from the docked vertibird. He had spouted some Brotherhood jargon bullshit about some operation. They left in a hurry, which was both a good and bad thing.

It had been nearly an hour since Grace had left. In that time, he hadn’t heard any gunshots. 

That also could be both good and or bad. 

“Deacon. She’s gonna make it.” Tinker Tom said for the umpteenth time. Well, sixth. Not that he was counting or anything.

“Yeah. I know.” he replied for the sixth time.

And it still didn’t make him feel any better.

“Maybe we should just try asking the Brotherhood to leave.” Deacon said. He looked up at the Knight wielding the minigun by the front entrance. “Nicely.”

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it.” replied Tom.

 _Yeah... that’d go over_ real _well with Dez._

Deacon leaned against the wall of the vertibird with his arms crossed. He’d opted to remove his sunglasses as not to arouse too much suspicion. He hated every single second of it. 

“Hey, is that Fixer?” Tom asked.

Deacon turned his head to look up at the door, and sure enough, there was Grace. He watched as she looked around, free of her pack, and made her way down the stairs. 

Deacon’s heart was beating fast. He couldn't believe it. It had actually worked. 

_Don’t celebrate just yet there, D._

Grace walked briskly across the metal catwalk, heading towards them. Deacon tried very hard not to yell for her to get the hell on the ‘bird. After what seemed like a millennium, she reached the vertibird, and Deacon reached out his hand. She clasped her hand around his forearm, and he pulled her up into the machine.

“Move, move, move!” Deacon hissed to Tom. “She’s in!”

“Right on!” replied Tom.

Deacon took Grace’s face in his hands and stared into her beautiful eyes. She grinned at him, breathing heavily. 

“You’re fucking amazing.” he said.

“I try.” she replied with a smile.

He pulled her to him, and looked to Tom. “What’s taking you so long?”

“There’s a whole lot of mechanism for this. I’m going as fast as I can.”

Finally, Tom got the vertibird started and soon they were being released from the dock. They dropped into the air and Tom got the ‘bird hovering somewhat steadily.

“And we seriously didn’t raise an alarm?” said Deacon. He looked over at Grace and she smiled, nodding. He eyed the Prydwen and looked to Tom. “Tom, just to be safe. Step on it.”

“I’m trying, I’m trying.”

Deacon wrapped an arm securely around Grace. Tom maneuvered the vertibird over the airport. “Don’t get too close to them.” he said. He looked down at Grace, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. “I can’t believe we’re actually getting away with this.” 

He felt her nod against him.

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.” said Tom. “Alright, alright, just got to get... to a safe distance.”

Deacon watched them get farther from the airport, the Brotherhood soldiers, oblivious to what was coming.

“More distance please!”

“You’re making this look really easy, boss.”

They flew for a bit longer, and Deacon turned to see the Prydwen quite a distance behind them.

“We’re out of the blast range now.” said Tom. He quickly flipped a cover on a small device that was attached to the dash of the vertibird. “Here goes nothing.” And then he pressed the button.

Both Deacon and Grace turned to look towards the Prydwen. Nothing happened at first, and Deacon was worried that something was wrong with the explosives. 

And then he heard the first bang.

It was deafening. He wanted to cover his ears, but he didn’t want to let go of Grace. Then followed the second and third bangs, and the Prydwen erupted with explosions. Flames engulfed the air machine, and the sly was quickly immersed in thick black smoke.

“Shit.” said Tom.

“Woah.” said Deacon. “Now that’s a hell of a thing.”

They watched as the great Prydwen slowly started falling from the sky, flaming debris spewing from the belly of the beast.

“Rest easy, Glory.”

Grace was silent.

Tom flew the vertibird over a small peninsula. They could still see the mass of flames where they were, even though they were miles away. 

“I need a drink.” Deacon heard Tom say.

Tom lowered the vertibird until they were hovering above the ground. “Everyone get off! I got to find someplace to stash this beast.”

Deacon hopped off of the vertibird first, and opened his arms to capture Grace as she jumped.

“See you back at HQ.” Deacon yelled to Tom.  
Tom gave a wave, and made his way across the sky into the city. 

Deacon couldn’t help but stand there, looking across the water to the burning Prydwen.

They’d finally done it. They had eradicated the Brotherhood of Steel. Well, the Eastern chapter at least. 

But the danger was far from being clear. 

They still had the Institute to deal with, and that was something everyone was dreading.

 

***

 

Grace and Deacon slowly made their way to report back to Desdemona, though just her seeing Tom would confirm that the plan had worked.

The two were silent as they walked beside each other. They still donned their Brotherhood disguises and the suit and combat armour were beginning to feel constricting. 

Grace couldn’t help but think of the bright red glow that was now the Prydwen. That image was ingrained in her memory. And, as much as she tried to dismiss it, the guilt also sneaked it’s way to her. 

_You killed all those people._

_Yeah, well… it had to be done._

_Innocent lives were lost._

_They knew what they signed up for._

_There were children aboard that machine-_

“Grace!”

Grace snapped her attention towards her name, seeing Deacon looking down at her with concerned eyes. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, so she could see just how worried he was.

“Sorry.” She said. “Did you say something?”

He tilted his head slightly. “I said there's a safe house nearby that I’ve got some clothes stashed at.”

Grace plastered a smile on her face.

“Perfect.”

_Anything to get out of these goddamn uniforms._

Grace didn’t recognize where they were exactly, but she followed Deacon down a small path until they came to a small house. It was tucked away between two other buildings, and if you weren’t looking for it, a small rail sign with a house drawn in the centre was marked near the bottom. 

Deacon held open a hidden door for Grace and she stepped through. She found herself in a tidy living room, leading off into a small kitchen. It was only one floor but it was cozy. 

She was incredibly relieved to be safe... for the moment. 

She watched Deacon walk towards what she assumed was the bedroom and followed behind him. He walked over to a dresser and opened the middle drawer, rummaging through it.

Grace leaned against the door frame, crossing her arms, and just simply watched the man in front of her. He tossed a white shirt and some slacks on the bed, and began to take off his armour. She followed suit, tossing it down onto the floor with heavy thuds Deacon began to unzip the front of his Brotherhood uniform when Grace dashed over to him.

“Let me.” She said, placing her hand over his. She looked up at him and watched his Adam’s apple bob. 

“Be my guest.” He replied.

Grace began to slowly lower the zipper of the uniform down to Deacon's waist, exposing his solid chest. She couldn’t resist running her hands down his torso and she felt him shiver under her touch.

It had been too damn long.

Suddenly Deacon gripped the sides of her face and smashed his lips to hers. Just the feeling of his lips on hers sent her reeling. She couldn’t resist a moan, and pressed herself against him. She could feel the start of an erection pressed against her uniform. 

They continued to kiss as Deacon moved his hands to her own zipper, tugging it down roughly. He exposed the bra she was wearing underneath, and he cupped one of her breasts.

He moved his mouth to her neck, nipping lightly and trailing kisses down to her throat.

“I was afraid I’d lost you today.” She heard him murmur against her skin.

“Well, you didn’t.” she replied. 

“Thank God for that.” He said.

Then he wrapped his arms around her back, lifting her up in his arms. She couldn’t help but let out a small squeal as he carried her to the bed and tossed her on. 

He zipped down the rest of her uniform and proceeded to tug it off, until she lay in her bra and panties, strewn across the bed. Deacon then struggled out of his uniform and tossed it to the side. His erection was straining against his underwear as he crawled over top of her. 

Grace cradled his face as they kissed passionately, heat pooling between her legs. 

She wanted him. Needed him... badly.

He pulled away and she quickly undid her bra, tossing it on the floor and immediately his hands were on her breasts.

“I definitely missed these.” He said.

“Oh my God.” Grace groaned, rolling her eyes.

He moved one hand away only to replace it with his mouth and began to suck on her hardened nipple. Grace bit her lip, gripping his shoulder. 

He snaked his other hand down her stomach until it dived under her underwear, and started rubbing her clit slowly. 

He was driving her insane. 

“Fuck.” She said simply, squirming under his grasp.

He slid two fingers easily inside of her and began thrusting them up.

“Deacon, fuck.” She moaned as he fucked her with his fingers. 

He began kissing her again, and she could barely concentrate. 

“I need you.” She said against his mouth, and she could have sworn he growled.

He removed his fingers and licked them clean, the sight driving Grace wild. He nearly tore her panties off as he tugged them down her legs. He then ditched his own underwear, his cock sprang free. 

_Definitely missed_ that.

He situated himself over her, spreading her legs and pushed his cock deep inside her. She was already so ready for him it was effortless. 

Deacon started pumping steadily and Grace wrapped her legs around him. He leaned forward, threading his fingers through hers as he pinned her arms above her head. He nipped her lip and they kissed as he trusted into her. 

Grace could already feel herself getting close as his pelvis managed to rub deliciously against her clit. Deacon moved his lips to her neck, and pumped faster, squeezing her hands tight. 

She was so fucking close. 

Grace closed her eyes, moaning his name over and over until finally she found her release. 

He wasn’t too far behind, and pumped a few more times before he let out a loud moan. She could feel herself being filled as he came.

Deacon let go of Grace’s hands, and pulled out of her. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his back, pulling her against his chest. She placed her head against his heart, and could hear the steady rhythm.

They were both breathing hard, and Grace felt Deacon's lips press against her head.

“I fucking love you.” He said.

She turned to look up at him, seeing those gorgeous eyes meet hers. 

“I fucking love you too.”

 

 


	42. The Nuclear Option: Part 1

Deacon was peppering kisses against Grace’s shoulder when she let out a small sigh.

“Dee... we really need to get back to HQ.”

He knew that was coming.

He groaned, closing his eyes. He couldn’t wait for the day that these little moments between them wouldn’t be interrupted by some menial task. Like saving The Commonwealth and what have you.

“Alright.” he said, sitting up in bed. He looked at Grace and seeing her holding the sheets against her chest, and her hair frazzled in all the right places made him want to lay right back down. 

But he controlled himself.

They dressed quickly, back into normal clothes. He couldn’t help but eye the Brotherhood armor and flight suits that lay piled in the corner. It was insane that just the three of them had managed to take down an entire airship, Elder and all.

That was going to be a story for the books. 

They gathered a few things, and made their way back to HQ. It was a bit of a jaunt, but Deacon was completely satisfied with having Grace by his side. If you didn’t know that they were in the middle of a war, you’d think it was merely two lovers taking a casual stroll.

_I wish that were the case._

You could still see the red and orange glow in the distance as they made it to the HQ back entrance. The door had been blown open, and debris lay everywhere. As they entered HQ, Deacon noticed that they had already gotten rid of the bodies. Both Railroad and Brotherhood. A few suits of their power armor lay in a pile of scraps off to the side. What they hadn’t gotten rid of yet though, was the burnt smell of blood that lingered in the air. Deacon swallowed deeply.

“I thought...” came Dez’s voice. She slowly walked up to them, arms crossed and wielding a cigarette. “I thought by calling Red Glare I’d lose more good people. Comrades.” She walked up to Grace, and placed her free hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for keeping them, and yourself, safe.”

Deacon watched Grace shake her head. “We still lost too many people.”

Deacon immediately thought of Glory. 

“Without you, though.” said Dez. “It would’ve been far worse. But we’re not out of the woods yet.” She snuffed out her cigarette on the stone table in front of them. “If the Brotherhood managed to find us, you can bet your ass the SRB is not far behind. We’ve run out of time. Our next step is to attack the Institute.”

Deacon knew that this was coming. That the Institute was finally going to be taken down, while they still had the numbers to do so.

“I’m ready.” Grace said after a moment. “Let’s do it.”

Dez nodded. “Go back inside the Institute and secure the Relay. The instant you do, the Institute and the SRB will mobilize. So teleport us in quickly. We join forces with Z1-14 and the rebel synths, then together we can fight our way to the fusion reactor.”

Grace gave a small smile. “We’re gonna pull this off.”

“Or die trying. We’ll be waiting.”

Grace turned to Deacon suddenly and threw her arms around him. He barely had time to return the gesture when she pressed her lips to his quickly. Within moments she released him. “See you soon.” she said, and disappeared in a flash of blue.

“We have work to do.” said Dez.

Deacon quickly gathered together the few agents who would be the first group relayed into the Institute. They were all wearing various versions of the armored coat Tinker Tom had created. They were heavies, and Glory would have been one of them if not for... 

He gathered together his own weapons, clipping a pistol at his side, and loading his rifle. It wasn’t long before Dez, Tinker Tom, the few heavies, and himself, gathered together in the center of the room. Everyone was holding a variety of weapons. Deacon wasn’t worried about not having his own armored coat for the mission. He did have one, but rarely wore it. Instead he had Tom install ballistic weave in all of his outfits. So he was safe... for the most part.

“Now what?” asked one of the heavies.

“We wait.” said Dez.

***

After Grace teleported to the Institute she set out to find Z1. It didn’t take long before she found him in the Relay room. She spotted him working off to the side. She was mindful of the synth seekers and scientists in the room as well, and carefully made her way towards him. She leaned against the wall beside him, crossing her arms nonchalantly. 

“I’ve been looking for you.” She said quietly.

“Is it time?” He asked, still focusing on his work. “Once we act, we have committed. There will be no going back.”

Grace was tired of fighting. She was tired of working the double angle. She wanted this all to be over.

“Everything’s ready.” she replied. “It’s time.”

“Good. We’ll need to clear this room before I can do more.”

Grace nodded, pulling herself off of the wall.

It surprised Grace how effortless it was for her to aim, shoot and kill the people in the room. The synths, fine, but the two scientists and the worker that were also there? She couldn’t help but imagine this was what Nate went through when he was in battle. It was a scary thing, as she stood there looking down at the bodies lying on the ground. She didn’t feel anything.

Other than revenge.

“Alright, please give me a few moments.” said Z1 as he made his way to the Relay monitor. “I already have the coordinates. I simply need to update the Relay...” he trailed off, pressing buttons on the keyboard. “And... your companions will arrive in a moment.”

Grace stood behind Z1, her eyes locked on the room ahead of her. Waiting.

Finally, a flash of blue lit the area, and there stood Desdemona, Tinker Tom, three of the heavies, and in the back...

Deacon.

She let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

_They all made it._

Desdemona stepped forward first, looking all around her. “You did it.” She said in awe. “There’s no turning back now. If they’re not already onto us, they will be within seconds.”

Grace nodded. “Let’s get started then.”

“First, take this.” Desdemona said, stepping close to her. She handed her a device that looked similar to a grenade. “It’s a fusion pulse charge. Tinker Tom’s rigged it to take out the Reactor and anything else within a few hundred yards of it. We get you down there, you plant it, and we run like hell. When we get to a safe distance, we detonate it remotely. Then the whole Institute goes up like a candle. And the synths stay free. Forever.” Desdemona looked between everyone that had gathered around them. “This is the moment where we make history.”

Desdemona then looked to Tom, who was already eyeing the monitor on the Relay. “Tom, I need you to get that Relay working as soon as humanly possible. You’ll need to pull us out once we’re done with the reactor, and send out anyone that’s unarmed. Institute personnel included.”

“You got it, boss.” said Tom, already typing away at the monitor.

“All right, let’s move.” She said. 

Grace led the way as they headed down the stairs. A few of them went towards the elevator but Grace stopped them. Informed them they’d all be shot dead if they saw them in the elevator. She led them to a side door, that opened to the parts of the Institute that had been forgotten about. 

_I guess they hadn’t bothered with this area._

“Is this really it? I somehow thought the technology here would be more...impressive.” said Desdemona.

“Just you wait, Dez.” said Grace.

As they made their way through the depths of the Institute, they were met with synths. Multiple synths. They were able to fight them off, of course. Sparks and wires flying as they did so. What they weren’t expecting, much to Grace’s surprise, was the Sentry Bot. After many bullets were shed, along with one of their agents, unfortunately, they shut It down with an explosion.

“We should almost be there.” said Grace as they finally entered a room that held the familiarity of the actual Institute. 

“The years of living and hiding. Afraid of every footfall, suspicious of every stranger.” said Desdemona quietly behind her as the agents and Z1 made their way forward. Grace locked eyes with Deacon, but she urged him to go ahead. He did so reluctantly, and Grace turned to Desdemona. 

“And now here we are.” She continued. “Threatening the Devil himself.”

Grace stepped towards Dez and placed a hand on her shoulder. “The sacrifices were worth it.” she said. “You’ve done it.” 

“We’re not there yet. The clock’s ticking.” Desdemona shook Grace’s hand off her shoulder, holding up her rifle. “The longer it takes to reach the reactor, the more synths are in danger. “Let’s get moving.”

~

After successfully taking down the scientists and synths that were in the BioScience wing, they proceeded to the main area of the Institute. Synths and Coursers were everywhere as the Railroad and rebel synths fought for their lives. Grace felt multiple lasers sear past her, catching her back and nicking her arms, but she didn’t care. She fought through the chaos as scientists ran past her screaming. This was worse than murdering the Brotherhood, for she could actually see the bodies falling to the ground. 

Her ears were ringing as the last Courser fell to the ground, and her fingers were cramping tight clutching her rifle tight.

She felt hands on her arms and she quickly turned only to see Deacon standing in front of her.

“Grace. It’s okay. It’s over.”

She lowered her gun.

_It's just beginning._

Suddenly there was a buzz over the intercom, and Tom’s voice came through.  _“If you can hear me, I got the floor plan. Advanced Systems Lab... that’s where the reactor is and where you got to go.”_

Grace paused, feeling the adrenaline flowing through her.

_“But the doors are locked, and I can’t override from here.”_

Grace didn’t like where this was going.

_“The command has to come from the Director’s personal terminal. You_ _understand_ _? You’ve_ _gotta_ _do that part yourself.”_

“Tell the removal team to hurry!” Grace heard Z1 yell. “Get every one of our people out if they can.”

Grace felt her arms get heavy.

“If a human isn’t actively hostile, direct them to the Relay room. The less violence the better.” Z1 continued.

“Do you want me to come with you, Grace?” said Deacon.

Grace looked up at him. “No...” she trailed off, looking down at his chest. “I need to do this.”

She slowly made her way to the elevator in the center of the room, and hit the button. It closed around her, and she watched Deacon as darkness enveloped her, dropping to the floor below. 

She found herself walking through the same hallway that she had first walked through when she first teleported into the Institute. She was feeling the same, emotions mixed with anger and confusion. She took another elevator until it led her to that room when she first saw Shaun – the synth Shaun. The young boy she thought she was rescuing.

And they everything changed. 

She walked through the room, and up the small set of stairs that were in actual Shaun’s room. Director Shaun. She let out a small gasp as she saw him, pale and eyes closed in a medical bed. There was a monitor attached the side letting out small beeps.

She slowly made her way towards the man, and suddenly his eyes flashed open. 

“I didn’t expect to see you again.” He said hoarsely. “You had me fooled. I really believed you were on our side.”

As much as Grace hated everything that her son had become, she couldn’t stand to see him so sick like this. She felt her heart shatter, as much as she didn’t want it to.

“I’m sorry it’s come to this, Shaun.” she said quietly.

“You’re  _sorry?”_ he snapped. “You can’t be  _that_  sorry, if you’re here going through with it. It’s not enough that I lay here dying, now you plan on, what, destroying everything?”

Grace couldn’t say anything.

“Tell me then,” the man continued. “Under what righteous pretense have you justified this atrocity?”

“It’s for the greater good.” Grace said, feeling the venom forming with her words. “The Commonwealth deserves to determine its own fate.”

She could have sworn the man  _rolled his eyes._  “Spare me.” he said. “You’ve spent time up there. You know as well as I that it’s doomed.” He turned his head from her, looking forward in a haze. “Well, none of that matters now, I suppose. You’ll accomplish your task, and ruin humanity’s best hope for the future. The only question left, then, is why you’re standing here. Is it regret, or did you just come to gloat?”

Grace couldn’t believe this man.

She felt the fire forming in her chest, and had to grit her teeth together before taking a deep breath. “Shaun, if you help me, fewer people will die. Will you?”

His eyes met hers, and they were filled with their own anger. “Why would I consider helping  _you_?”

Grace dared to take a step forward. “Help me, and I’ll promise I’ll protect any survivors to the best of my abilities.”

The room was silent. Grace could hear the clock ticking on the wall above him, and she wanted to take aim and shoot. But she waited.

Then, Shaun let out a long sigh. “Very well.” he said quietly. “The terminal behind me... enter access code: 9003. That will disable some of the synths. Now go.” He burst into a coughing fit, and Grace saw a bit of blood on his sleeve as he wiped it away. “Just leave me.”

Grace headed to the terminal and typed in the access code. Sure enough, she was able to shut down some of the synths, and she also saw a section marked  _Engage Evacuation Protocol BD-2._ She activated it, and soon the Institute was filled with a blaring alarm. She finished using the terminal by overriding the master security lockdown.

 _“Hell yeah! Access granted! Should be able to reach the reactor!”_ buzzed Tom’s voice over the intercom. 

Grace left the monitor and didn’t dare look back to Shaun. 

She couldn’t do that to herself. 

 _“Synths are pouring through up here.”_ Grace heard Tom say.  _“But we won’t leave without you.”_

She made her way down the stairs, wiping away a single tear that had drifted down her cheek.


	43. The Nuclear Option: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the longest chapter I've written. I just couldn't stop.

Deacon stood in the center of the Institute. 

He couldn’t believe it.

He had never seen a place so pristine, so clean, in all his life.  It was highly spectacular... in a cruel way considering its intentions. Why hide all of this underground, and why use it for something so evil?

Deacon didn’t have the answer to that.

An alarm suddenly started blaring and everyone looked around. Tom’s voice came over the intercom letting Grace know that she had done it, that the lock-down had been overridden.  Deacon held his rifle to his chest as Dez commanded the group of agents and rebel synths together. He was half-listening to her, instead letting his eyes wander to see where Grace would show.

Finally he spotted her coming down a flight of stairs and she quickly dashed towards them. As soon as she approached them he noticed her eyes flushed red and he knew she’d been crying. He ached to reach out to her, but knew now was not the time.

“Perfect.” said Dez once Grace settled in. “Advanced Systems it is.”

The group made their way to Advanced Systems when suddenly the doors burst open and numerous synths burst their way through.

“Fire, now!” yelled Dez, and everyone raised their weapons, firing simultaneously at the synths.

They all went crashing down, and the group stepped over the metal bodies, making their way into the space.

They were met with more synths and scientists, and beams of lasers and bullets whizzed past. Deacon felt one graze his leg, but thought nothing of it. 

_Tis a flesh wound._

“Work together, people!” he heard Dez yell over the chaos. 

“Be warned. I cannot allow these attacks to continue.” A synth said, right before his head was blown off by a shotgun.

Deacon looked behind him to see the synth known as Z1 and watched him grin.

A few more head explosions later, and all was quiet.

“Threat’s over.” said Dez.

Deacon looked over to Grace who was already stalking past the swarm of synth bodies on the floor, making her way to a door.

“We have to take the elevator down.” she said.

“You heard Fixer.” said Dez. “Move out.”

Deacon joined Grace in the elevator, along with Dez and a few agents and synths. As many as they could fit. The elevator lowered slowly, and there was an eerie silence throughout. 

Even though they were losing people, Deacon couldn’t help but feel that they were winning.

“Grace-” Deacon started, but then the doors opened with a ding! Grace immediately exited followed by Dez and everyone else. 

Wielding their weapons, they were now in a room filled with what looked like generators of sorts. Deacon raised his rifle to shoot one of the synths, but Grace placed her hand on the barrel, lowering it. 

“They’re deactivated.” She said.

Sure enough there were three synths standing there, heads slumped down. 

They waited in the small area for the rest of the agents and synths to make their way down to the reactor floor. Once everyone was ready, Grace led them into a tunnel. Three laser turrets simultaneously began shooting at them, and before he knew it they were all taken care of.

Deacon was thankful for the amount of people they had with them.

They came into another room, where another synth was slumped over. They were in a viewing area as it appeared, and Deacon looked out the large windows to see multiple metal platforms and stairways. Inside was a large column, which he could only assume was the reactor.

They made their way down another set of stairs, around a corner, and up another, until they were in a de-containment room. And that room led to the reactor.

Grace looked to the group, and cocked her rifle. 

“It’s all or nothing.” she said sternly.

Deacon had to admit that that was one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen or heard.

She fired the first shot, and mayhem followed.

Guns were fired left and right, lights of blue flashing every which way. The noise was alarming, and multiple screams rang out as small explosions reverberated around the room. Deacon was having a hard time distinguishing which shot was coming from where. At one point he was somehow knocked to the ground and found himself staring up at synth with a laser pistol pointed at his head. 

He was ready to accept his fate right there.

Suddenly the synth erupted into parts and sparks as its head blew apart.

Deacon was dumbfounded.

He watched as Grace came up to him and reached her hand out. He took it, and she helped pull him up.

DeJa'Vu washed over him as he thought back to their first battle together back at The Switchboard.

“You’re not leaving me that easily.” she said with a small smile.

He couldn’t help but grin.

“A guy can try.”

***

It wasn’t long before they had finally defeated the remainder of the synths and scientists in the reactor room. Some people were congratulating one another, slapping each other on the back. As much as Grace wanted to join, the mission was far from being over.

Grace made her way up onto the platform to a terminal and began punching in numbers. She could only assume the same password for Shaun’s terminal worked for this one, and she was right. She sifted through the commands, starting with deactivating the Radiation Purge System. She then initiated the Reactor Shutdown Sequence. 

Leaving the terminal, she cautiously made her way towards the exposed reactor, digging for the fusion pulse charge in her pack, and placing it carefully inside. Heart throbbing wildly, she went back to the terminal, shutting the reactor’s doors.

Relieved, she made her way down the platform where she was greeted by Deacon and Desdemona, as well as the remaining Railroad agents and rebel synths. 

“Desdemona.” Grace said simply.

The woman smiled. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Tom, Tom! Can you hear me?” Desdemona yelled, looking up towards the ceiling. “We’re done down here! Pull us back up!”

Tom didn’t say anything in return, but Dez suddenly vanished in a flash of blue, followed by each agent and synth. Grace looked to Deacon, who flashed a grin. He disappeared as well, leaving Grace alone. She looked around her, seeing the bodies of the fallen, from both sides, before she felt herself being pulled. Her vision blurred and soon found herself back in the Relay room. She was already situated in the small chamber with Dez and Deacon, the other agents having already been relayed out to safety.  Grace turned to face Deacon, that smirky-ass grin on his face. He knew that they were practically out of the clear. 

“We’re all done Tom,” said Desdemona. “Let’s get out of here while we can.”

“I’m with ya boss, but...” he paused. “this kid showed up. He says he’s Fixer’s son.”

Grace’s heart froze.

She turned around and there stood Shaun. The synth Shaun. 

_What the hell was he doing here?_

“Please, Mom.” His small voice shrilled. “Don’t leave me here! I want to go with you!”

Grace could feel her hands start to shake. 

This couldn’t be happening.

_How was this happening?_

“Why... wh- why did you call me mom?” Her voice shook.

“What? You’re my mother! Why else would I call you that?”

Grace didn’t know what to say.

Was this Shaun’s way of saying he was sorry? She didn’t know what to think. But all she knew for certain was she couldn’t let this poor child, synth or not, stay here in this ticking bomb.

“Right, of course.” she said quietly. “I’m your mother.”

“Good.” The boy replied. “For a second I thought you forgot who I was.”

Her heart was practically shattered.

“Now let’s hurry up and get out of here.” he continued. 

Grace couldn’t help but open her arms. “Alright. You can come with me.”

She watched the boys’ eyes light up. “Really? Do you mean it?”

Grace nodded slowly. “Yes I mean it.” 

The boy dashed forward into her arms, and she squeezed her arms tight around him. 

_He felt so real._

“Now let’s get out of here.” she continued. 

“I’m glad you were here to save me.” he said into her chest.

Grace’s breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard. “Tom - fire it up.”

“You got it!” 

Grace stood up, Shaun still clutching her legs. She felt a hand grasp her shoulder and instantly knew it was Deacon. She couldn’t help but raise her hand to hold his.

“It’s all set to take you, Dez and Deacon to the detonation site, then I’ll rig it to send me and the kid here back to HQ right after.”

Grace looked down to Shaun. “Go with Tom, okay?”

“But...”

“Don’t worry, we’ll look after you.” Said Tom. “Get you some better clothes too, yikes.”

“It’s okay.” Grace said with a sad smile. “You can trust Tom.”

“Okay.” said Shaun after a moment. He walked over to Tom’s side, and Grace felt empty already.

“Let’s go before this whole place goes thermonuclear.” said Tom.

Grace watched as Shaun waved and she couldn’t help but give a small wave in return.

_See you soon, buddy._

And soon they were all vanishing in the all too familiar flash of blue.

When they reappeared, Grace recognized the roof of the Mass Fusion Building. She remebered the last time she had been here with Dr. Allie Filmore to retrieve the beryllium agitator. 

_That seemed like so long ago._

She looked around her, and found herself surrounded by Desdemona, Deacon, Z1-14, and a few Railroad agents.

She looked back out towards the Commonwealth. The night had fallen, and the sky was filled with stars. She couldn’t help but stare, as it seemed like ages since the last time the sky had been free of radiated clouds. She couldn’t help but smile as she recognized Orion, noting the three stars in a row.

She looked down at the small red button setup in front of here. 

Here she was. After being frozen for over 200 years, having her husband shot and her baby stolen in front of her eyes, she was surrounded by family. She had survived this miserable wasteland so far, and had come out stronger than ever. Her heart filled with love for so many people that she had somehow stumbled her way into their lives. Although she had no control over what had happened to her, she was thankful. Thankful for the people that believed in her. Thankful for the times her life was spared. And that was plenty.

She looked back to Deacon. 

He was standing there, trying not to look cool, but he couldn’t help himself when he wore those god-awful sunglasses. But Grace had to admit they were one of her favourite parts of him.

She was thankful for Deacon, that he could show her how to love again. How  _they_ showed each other.

Grace took a step closer to the detonator. 

She couldn’t help but look out towards the CIT ruins, knowing that lying beneath was the remainder of the Institute. 

And Shaun.

Grace closed her eyes.

As much as she knew that his future hadn't been of his own accord, that he was experimented on to create the first Gen 3 synth... She couldn’t forgive him.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered, pressing her hand on the button.

Nothing happened at first. Grace was confused. 

But then all too suddenly the building beneath them began to rumble, vibrating under her feet. She looked up to see dust starting to form around the CIT, and then a flash.

It erupted in a giant cloud of flames, bigger than the explosion of the Prydwen. It was terrifyingly reminiscent of the mushroom cloud she had seen while being lowered into Vault 111. She forced herself to watch, and although they were still a safe distance away, she swore she could feel the heat burning her eyes.

She felt something touch her hand, and looked down to see a hand enveloping around her own. She looked up to see Deacon beside her. He gave a small smile, then felt his thumb brush away under her eye.

She hadn’t realized she’d been crying.

They watched the rest of the smoke settle together, until The CIT ruins were reduced to a crater in the ground.

No one said anything for a while. But then Z1 broke the silence.

“This is the first time my people taste freedom.”

“My whole life I’ve been holding my breath.” said Desdemona. “Now, now I can breathe.”

“You ever wonder if, right now, we’re living in our glory days?” said Deacon.

Grace smiled, letting go of his hand, and made her way over to Dez.

“And so, the mighty have fallen.” she said. “Dozens of years, countless sacrifices. It all paid off thanks to you.” 

Grace didn’t say anything. She had merely helped. 

Desdemona nodded towards Deacon. “Deacon says this was his plan all along.”

Grace looked back towards him, and he had his back to them. She damn well knew he was listening.

“Who knows,” she said with a smirk. “Maybe he did plan it all.”

Dez let out a small laugh. “Some things even Deacon can’t do. Maybe.” She turned and looked out towards the city. “In days gone by, when us old timers waxed rhapsodic about life without the Institute, we recognized our work wouldn’t end immediately. Hate runs deep in the Commonwealth. Deeper than the soil. To them, synths are the living embodiment of the Institute’s oppression.” She paused, and turned back to Grace. “I’d understand if you wanted a much-needed vacation. But are you up for the next mission, Fixer?”

Grace couldn’t help but start laughing. “I think I’ll take that vacation first.”

Desdemona joined her in the laugh. “Take all the time you need. We’ll be waiting. Our safehouses will be bursting with synths seeking a better life outside the Commonwealth. Not everyone in the Institute died. We’d be foolish to think there won’t be retaliation. Come back to the HQ and lead the last of our people to freedom.”

Z1 slowly approached the pair and cleared his throat. “You... all of you-”

“We’ve rescued enough over the years. You don’t have to say anything.” said Dez.

“You will protect them? Are we safe?”

“Just because you’re out of the Institute doesn’t make you safe. Or the Railroad’s job is over. There’s a lot of work ahead of us. But together... we’ll get there.


	44. The Encore

Deacon and Grace had decided to join the others in teleporting one final time to HQ. As soon as they entered the building they were met with a round of applause. Cheers and whistles erupted through the crowd, and Deacon grinned. He looked over to see Grace’s face light up in a blush.

He loved her so much.

“Mom!” yelled a voice from the crowd. 

They turned to see young Shaun burst from the sea of agents and synths and ran right into Grace’s arms. She took him without question.

“Hey Shaun.” she said with a smile.

“I was so worried.” he said, face smushed against her chest. “I never thought I’d see you again.” They embraced for a moment and the crowd died down, and people resumed normal business. Though at the moment “normal” seemed to be partaking in a few drinks and bursting into song. 

Deacon couldn’t blame them.

It was a night for celebration.

“Is it true?” Shaun asked after a moment. “Did you really blow up the Institute? Why would you do that?”

Grace briefly glanced to Deacon for help but he shook his head. He had no idea what to tell the poor kid.

“They were dangerous, Shaun.” Grace said after some thought. “To everyone in the Commonwealth.”

“Yeah, that’s what Tinker Tom said.” Shaun replied. “As long as you don’t leave me I’ll be okay.” He looked at her with scrunched brows. “You’re... you’re not gonna leave me, right?”

Grace couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I’m here for you.”

“Okay!” he exclaimed. “Oh, before I forget.” The kid dug around in his pockets and retrieved what looked like a holotape. “Father... uh, told me to give this to you.” He placed it in her flattened palm, and she looked down at it with curiosity. “I didn’t listen to it, so I dunno what it says, but I think it’s important.”

Grace smiled, but it was a pained smile that Deacon recognized all too well.

“Thanks kiddo.”

Shaun grinned and turned to look up at Deacon.

“That’s Deacon.” Grace said, smiling up at him. 

“You’re very tall.” Shaun said and Deacon couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

“It’s because I ate my vegetables growing up.” Deacon said. 

Shaun frowned. “Dr. Li said the same thing, but I never liked them.”

Grace smiled, and then Shaun asked if he could go see Tinker Tom.

“Of course.” She said. “I’ll be outside with Deacon.”

Shaun grinned and ran off to Tom, who scooped the kid up in a giant bear hug.

“Tom always was the fun uncle.” said Deacon.

Grace nudged him in the shoulder, and together they made their way outside. 

The air was surprisingly cool as they leaned against the brick wall of the Church. They opted for the front entrance because why the hell not? They deserved some time to not worry.

They were quiet as they stood there, Grace leaning her head against Deacon’s shoulder. He wanted to talk about Shaun, the fact that he was a synth. Would he ever age? Glory never never seemed to age.

But he remained silent on the subject.

Instead, he cleared his throat. “So yeah. We did that. Yeah. Institute's gone, synths saved, and we’re both alive.” He looked down at her, her arm circled around his waist. “So, what’s the encore, Fixer?”

He felt her laugh vibrate against his arm. “I need a  _long_  break.”

He smiled. “Well, you’ve earned a vacation. Heck, a lifetime of vacations.”

They were silent for a while longer, looking up at the stars. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen them. 

After some time, he let out a small sigh. “Some dusty old philosopher thought people were made of metals, that defined their characters. And you, are solid gold.”

Grace looked up at him, reached up and removed his sunglasses. He always let her of course.

“You’re just making shit up.”

He grinned, mesmerized by her eyes. Always her eyes.

“Let’s go kick some ass.”

***

**~ THREE WEEKS LATER ~**

Grace smiled as she watched Shaun throw a ball to Deacon. He made a big deal out of it and fell to the ground, landing haphazardly. After a moment he raised his hand to show that he, indeed, caught the ball. 

Grace rolled her eyes.

They had been getting along surprisingly well. Grace had briefly mentioned that her and Deacon were, well, seeing each other. Shaun of course had the memory of Nate so she had to explain that situation to him. It took him a bit to warm up to the fact that Deacon was the new father figure in his life, and around week two he eventually gave in and started calling him Dad.

It warmed Grace’s heart.

Sanctuary was flourishing now, with caravans constantly travelling from Bunker Hill and back. Escaped synths had taken refuge here, Grace welcoming them with open arms. A lot of them were scattered throughout the multiple settlements in the Commonwealth. It made Grace happy knowing that this was part of her doing. That they no longer lived in fear.

Desdemona was constantly asking her when she planned on returning back to HQ. And Grace wanted to go, but Deacon had other ideas. Preston was even bugging her about reclaiming the old Fort Independence, but Deacon told him that they’d waited this long, they could wait some more.

Grace was beginning to think that Deacon was enjoying his time off more than she was.

She waved to the boys and they waved back, and she made her way inside. Her bedroom had been transformed into hers and Deacon’s room, and the spare bedroom was now Shaun’s. She made her way to her room, and dug around through one of the dresser drawers until her hand felt the curved edges of a holotape. She tugged it out.

This one's label was well worn away, but she would always remember it. 

She practically had it memorized. 

_ "Hi honey..." _

She set that one aside, and dug around for another one. She found it easily, and held it in front of her.

She still hadn’t brought herself to listen to it, keeping it hidden the day that _he_ had given it to her. 

But for some reason today, she decided it was time.

She retrieved her PipBoy from the nightstand, the weight of it surprising her.

_Has it always been that heavy?_

She hadn’t worn it since that night.

She popped open the player, sliding in the holotape, shutting it with a click.

It beeped once, and then began playing.

 _“If you are hearing this, then whatever conflicts you and I have endured are over.”_ His deep voice rang through the small room, and Grace placed a hand over her mouth.

_“I have no reason to believe you’ll_ _honor_ _the request I’m about to make, but I feel compelled to try anyway.”_

Grace wanted to shut it off, but she let it play.

_“This synth, this... boy. He deserves more. He has been re-programmed to believe he is your son. It is my hope that you will take him with you. I would ask only that you give him a chance. A chance to be a part of whatever future awaits the Commonwealth.”_

It ended with a click, and Grace tossed the PipBoy onto the bed. 

Hearing that voice again started to bring back all the memories she had tried so hard to push back.

Suddenly, three short knocks came from the door. 

She looked up to see Deacon standing there. 

“How long were you there for?” she asked.

He walked over, sitting down next to her on the bed.

“Not long at all.”

Grace didn’t say anything, but took his hand, playing with his fingers. 

“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked, pulling her up off of the bed. “Shaun’s busy playing with Dogmeat.”

Grace smiled. “Sure.”

Deacon led her through the back door of the house, avoiding any eyes. It seemed anywhere she went around here, people were always asking her for help with one thing, or advice with another. As much as she loved helping people, she also loved her space.

She followed Deacon as they made their way along the river, his fingers threaded through her own.

It wasn’t long before they were far from Sanctuary, out of ears-reach of listening settlers. They settled down in a small patch of grass, lying down next to each other, Grace curled up against Deacon’s chest. She listened to the steady rhythm of his heart against her ear and she smiled. 

_Nothing could get better than this._

“Marry me.” 

Grace’s eyes opened wide, and she lifted herself to look down at Deacon.

“What did you say?”

He smiled. Those sunglasses gleaming in the sun. “Marry me.”

She reached down and ripped them off, tossing them behind her. She heard a small splash.

“Those were my favorite.”

She looked deep into those eyes of his, one green and one blue, sparkling up at her.

“You were saying...?"

Deacon suddenly flipped Grace over, so he was now situated over her. She was breathing deeply as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. It had gotten so long now.

“Grace Adrianna Smith.” he said, and hearing her full name spoken aloud sent chills down her spine. “Will you marry me?”

Grace smiled, biting her lip.

“Your wish is my strong recommendation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh My Goodness.
> 
> I can't believe this is finally finished. I loved every frustrating second of this. I want to thank everyone who ever gave support on it, your comments always made me smile and want to keep updating. This story is over for now, and I have no idea if there will be more in the future, but I hope so. For now, I plan on working on other things ( smaller things ) and different characters (different ships). Also thank you to whoever stumbles upon this fic in the future. Please continue to leave your comments and input, I love every second of it.


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